


Streetlights

by rainbowballz



Category: Victorious
Genre: F/F, Streetlights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-07 05:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 105,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowballz/pseuds/rainbowballz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'd sooner swallow razor blades soaked in acid before I ever admitted out loud that I need Tori, but that wouldn't make it any less true." ;Jade/Tori;</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**_|Jade|_ **

A cold wind bites my cheeks, weaving through my hair and across my bare shoulders. I didn't bring a jacket because I like the way goosebumps feel when they crawl over my flesh. It doesn't ever get too cold in California, but the fall months do provide chilly nights and fogs of breath to cloud outdoor conversations. The steam of my black coffee rises from the cup clasped in my hands. It smells thick of mornings I hate waking up to and late nights spent memorizing a monologue or revising a draft for a play. The drink is so intricately woven to experiences I despise, and here's another one I can add to the list, another espresso-related moment I can scribble down and cringe at whenever it comes up.

Sometimes, I just really fucking hate everything.

Beck's face is solemn. His head is bowed, black hair a jagged shadow, elbows on his knees, and his own coffee is sitting forgotten between us. Neither of us are talking. It's just the sound of footsteps rumbling in and out of the Starbucks behind us and the traffic vibrating the road. There's a streetlight alternating between stop and yield and go and I stare at the changing colors like it's a kaleidoscope. A car tries to jump the green, a sleek, red vehicle that's pulsing music far too loudly, only for it to rock back on its brake as a truck zooms across the intersection. There's some yelling, a raised middle finger, before the driver is off.

"Say something. Please."

I bring my coffee to my lips. It's really far too hot to be drinking it quite yet but I don't care; I let the scalding liquid sear the roof of my mouth, my tastebuds frying away. I lower the cup to my knees, pinching it between them. My mouth is throbbing, blood swelling, and I suck it down my throat.

"Jade. Please."

"What do you want me to say?" I tear my eyes from the streetlight, that stupid fucking indicator that has probably lead to more deaths than any war, that has malfunctioned or prompted people to go without looking and it's probably their fault but, Jesus, sometimes life is distracting and you just don't think to look up. Beck meets my eyes, dark and ringed with sadness - not the same sadness that settled there after his Gran died, not the same sadness that plagued him when he didn't get a callback for a commercial he desperately wanted to star in. It's different, new, thick and heavy in his eyes like black-out curtains. "Honestly, Beck. What the fuck do you expect me to say? 'Thanks for everything? No hard feelings? We'll be the best of friends?'"

"Don't be like that." He looks away again, a sigh rattling his shoulders.

My usual answer to prolonged anger is violence. Everyone who has pissed me off has learned that the hard way. I have an insane urge to punch him right in the nose until I hear it crack, or black his eyes, or slam my boot between his legs until he begs for mercy. Anything to even come close to what's tearing my insides to shreds, plucking every tendon and ligament until they snap.

But he's Beck, and I've never physically hurt him before. I've never swung at him, even when he's done nothing but piss me off for days. Because I love him. Because I've loved him for two years. Because he's Beck and he's been with me forever and I'm so in love with him I don't know how to picture my life without him in it but here he is, cropping himself out of the photograph.

"Fuck you." There's no real malice in my words. I try, really, to generate the anguish that's ripping me apart somewhere in my chest into a tone of complete and total hatred, but it just breaks and shatters and the pieces litter the bottom of my lungs. My throat is tightening. My eyes are stinging. I've always been vulnerable with him, have always let him settle in my soft spot. But now he's puncturing it, digging deep, clawing, all with a frown on his face. "Fuck you, Beck."

"I did love you, Jade. I really did. And I still do. I just, it's not - it's not working. This isn't working."

I glare at him like I want him to set on fire. What's not working? I love him. He loves me. We kiss, we talk, we hang out, we laugh, we do things together. How is it not working? We fight. We bicker. I'm jealous and overbearing whenever he so much as looks at another girl, but he always said he liked that about me, that he felt protected. Just the night before he kissed me before I went home, hot and soft on the lips, and the same spark that has jolted me with every brush of contact had airplanes colliding in my stomach.

"What's not working? Everything's been absolutely fine. How can you just -" I bite my lip. It's quivering, and my voice is cracking, and for fucks sake I am not crying on top of everything else. Not in front of a busy Starbucks with possible life or death choices going on at the streetlight not that far away. "I don't understand."

"You're my first real girlfriend. I've never dated anyone else. I - I just don't feel the same. I don't want to lead you on until I'm absolutely sure. It wouldn't be fair to you."

"Is there another girl?" I turn back to him, giving up on keeping myself from crying. It's not going to happen. Tears swell in my eyes and spill over. Beck scoots closer to me, moving the coffee out of the way so he can put his thumbs on both of my cheeks, brushing the tears away. His hands are hot against the cold wind.

"No. Jade, I swear, there's no one else. I'm just feeling really conflicted right now and I just - I don't know where you fit. As a friend or as more." He removes his hand but remains close, brown eyes piercing into mine. "I have loved you more than anything for two years. You're beautiful and funny and smart and my best friend. None of this has anything to do with you. It's just me and my head and trying to figure out where my feelings lie." A hand runs through his hair, yanking it back. "We're seniors. We graduate in nine months. I need some time to figure out what I really want to do with the rest of my life. I need some time for myself so I know my choices aren't being influenced by anyone else." His hand claps on my knee. "I need to do this, Jade. For me. I'm sorry."

I know he means it. Beck is a genuine guy, and I've known him long enough to understand that he wouldn't do anything if he didn't think it was right. I shake my head, though, because I don't want to believe it, I don't want him to say these things with such sincerity. I want him to laugh, to say he's joking, that he's going to marry me and star in movies with me until we're old and wrinkled. I want him to say forever and mean it.

I kiss him. I kiss him hard and hungry and desperate, like it'll convince him to stay. I hold his face and he touches my hair and people are staring at us but I don't care. He tastes and smells just like coffee and he's always been my weak spot, the chink in my armor, my Achilles heel. And he's severed the muscle, torn it up to leave me gimp and limping, all while saying he was sorry, that he had to do it for himself.

He drives me home in silence. I hold his hand on the console and try to breathe, to think of something to say that could possibly make him change his mind. But I don't because it'll only make me feel like more shit than I already am. We drive slowly through streetlights, Beck ever cautious and always aware of his surroundings, subconsciously checking for reckless drivers. The red lights are frequent, always stop and go, yielding for intersecting traffic and moving along at a safe place when we're ushered to. I breathe in the familiar smell of his car, of him, and pray that the apocalypse drops its hell on us before we get to my house.  
It doesn't, though, and we don't crash, and Beck is the same good driver he's always been. He parks in my driveway, my empty house looming over me like a prison. I stare through the windshield, not moving, my grip on Beck enough to cut off his circulation. At least he did it on a Friday. At least I have a few days to pull myself together before Monday forces me to walk down the hallways alone.

"I love you." I've said the words so many times in fleeting conversations, whispers in the sheets of his bed, the walls of my house. I've always meant them. They have always been true.

"I love you, too. And I know that either way -" (if he wants me or not - he doesn't say it but we're both thinking it) "- we'll be okay."

"I doubt it." I crank the door open before he can say anything. My fingers squeeze his as I stand, my body turning so I can look back in at him with our hands still linked. I stare at them, my eyes already sore from crying and I can feel tears dripping down my jaw. And then I let go and shut the door and he pulls slowly away. I stand with my arms crossed, watching him drive carefully down my street, his back lights beaming red before disappearing.

I consider falling to the grass on my knees and howling at the moon like a dramatic romance movie. I consider going inside and burning everything Beck has ever touched. I consider curling up in my bed and snotting all over my pillow like normal people would do.

But I grab my keys from the kitchen counter and sprint to my car.

Andre and Robbie are out of the question. I don't particularly like either of them for various reasons. That, and I know neither of them would know what to say or do. I don't even know what I want to hear and I'm the one seeking out another person. There's Cat, but she wouldn't be able to fully grasp it, she'd just try to give me ice cream and pat my back and put her yappy dog in my lap. She'd be just as clueless as the boys, and that only leaves me with one choice.

I mentally curse as I pull out of my driveway. I fucking hate needing anyone, anyone except Beck, and here I am for the second damn time driving to Tori Vega's house while crying my eyes out. But I have no one else and I know she'll help me because Tori's anything if not a goddamn saint. She'll tell me what I need to hear, she'll coddle me and balance it with enough sternness to help me.

I'd sooner swallow razor blades soaked in acid before I ever admitted out loud that I need Tori, but that wouldn't make it any less true.

And so I drive, and every stoplight I reach, I think about speeding through a red light, just for the thrill, just because I fucking can.


	2. Chapter 2

**_|Tori|_ **

"Trina, I'm going to kill you."

I probably can't even count how often I've said those words. Slamming the cupboard door shut, I glare hard at my sister, who's sprawled on the couch, one leg swung over the back while the other dangles near the floor. She's chomping away on the last of my Sunchips, which I bought specifically for me with my own money. She doesn't even look up, she's so engrossed in whatever stupid reality TV show she's watching.  
Giving an exasperated sigh, I collapse on the opposite end of the couch. Trina beams and happily plops her feet onto my lap. I try to make my eyes as angry as possible, as angry as Jade West's are on a regular basis, but I'm either not very threatening or my sister is simply immune to me. She continues to grin, popping the last Sunchip into her mouth before smashing the bag into a wrinkled ball. She tosses it toward me with a pout, as if she doesn't have two perfectly operational legs and the garbage isn't a whole whopping ten feet away from her.

When I don't take the bait immediately, Trina's pout deepens. The lines around her eyes carve themselves thicker, lower lip thrusting out, and I swear that tears are filling up in her eyes. People don't believe me when I tell them that Trina is actually really talented. Singing is definitely not her strong point (I like to think I have that down moreso than her) but I'd be lying if I said she couldn't act really well. That, and I'm a complete pushover, and Trina is a complete master at making me do whatever she asks, and then some.

I snatch the empty bag and throw her feet off of me. I basketball throw it into the trash from the threshold of the kitchen, smiling in triumph. I'm making my way back to the couch when the doorbell resonates from the ceiling.

Trina is up on her feet so fast, I'd have missed it if I had blinked. "That has got to be the mailman with my Italian boots!"

"Trina, it's nine thirty at night."

Trina stops before the door, whirling around on the heel of her slipper. "The postal service has learned the hard way that when packages come for me, they deliver them pronto." Thrusting out her chin, she spins back to the door and rips it open with a burst of chilly, late-night air. "It's about time you - oh."

I try to peer around her shoulder. "Who is it?"

Trina looks back at me, dark eyebrows curled in confusion. "Your freaky friend."

It's my turn to look confused. I move around my sister and - what do you know. Jade West is standing on my porch without a jacket, dressed in black and dark blues. She has that same, permanent angry look in her eyes, the one I wish I could master as well as she does, and her focus is on Trina.

I touch Trina's shoulder. "I've got it. You should move out of the way before she breaks you."

"Pft." Trina flips her hair dramatically, the long, brunette wave tumbling down one shoulder. "As if she could. I'm a black belt, Tori."

I roll my eyes, shoving her out of the way with my hip. "Will you go, please?" I jerk my eyes back to Jade. She's staring at the ground now, tense muscles flickering in her cheek. What is she doing here? Jade doesn't just pop up at my house for a surprise visit. We're not that kind of friend. We're not even friends, really - we're in the same group, and that forces us to mingle. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to be closer to her, but Jade has all of these walls constructed around her and I figured Beck was the only one who knew where the drawbridge was. Still, it's beyond weird that she's here, because the last time she came over, she and Beck had -

Oh no.

I spin to Trina again. "Can you go in your room, please?"

Trina saunters back to the couch. "Heck no. My shows are on. Go in your room."

A surge of insults threaten to come hurtling out of my mouth, but I snap it shut with a click. Turning back to Jade, I try to meet her eyes, but they're still down. Maybe it's the fact that she's still standing in the dark, but her eyes almost look red - kind of puffy, too.

"C'mon. We'll go up in my room."

She still doesn't look at me. Nodding her head, she steps inside and I close the door behind her, watching her with suspicion as I move toward the stairs. I'm not used to Jade dwelling in this kind of silence. She's quiet, most of the time, and the things she does say aloud aren't ever all that kind, but this silent is different. It's deep, like she's buried under something.

We move into my room, flicking on the light by the door to illuminate the purple and white themed covers and walls. Jade's been in my room before, but not with me in it, as well - she's kind of snoopy. This is the first time her and I have been in my room at the same time and it's weird, for me, because I've never really had a chance to show Jade any significant side of me other than what she sees at school. I always figured it was a lost cause to try - she's never been interested in being the kind of friend Cat and Andre are to me, so the effort seemed fruitless.

And yet, here she is, for the second time, showing up at my house with the remnants of tears on her cheeks. I sit on the edge of my bed, hands clasping in front of me, waiting. She sinks on my desk chair, fingers picking at the cushion.

The silence stretches so long, it makes me physically uncomfortable. I shift slightly, not sure what to say, what to do, so I just blurt out - "You broke up with Beck again and you want me to help you get him back."  
Her lip pushes upward. To call it a smile or a grin or a smirk wouldn't be the right description; there's no emotion behind it, her green, dark eyes heavy and studying the floor. "Strike one."

"Your grandma died."

"Two."

"Your house burned down."

"You're out." She rests the side of her head against the top of the chair, fingers now twirling around a long strand of her black hair. "He broke up with me."

At first, I think I've heard her wrong. My hands unfold and flatten on my knees. "What?"

"Pay attention, Vega." Her arms cross like blocks over her chest, her gaze toughening to its usual angry stare. "Beck. Broke up. With -" She takes a deep breath through her nose. It makes her chest stammer and she has to look away from me, eyes glistening. "Me."

The last time her and Beck had broken up, Jade had been a howling mess, bleeding mascara all over my pillows and begging me to help her. It was the most emotion I had ever seen come out of her. It was what loving girlfriends should act like when they've made a mistake, you know? But this is harder, rawer, because Jade is choking on her sobs. Last time, she had done the dumping. It's entirely different when someone dumps you.

"But ..." I open and close my mouth. Beck loves her. It's obvious - everyone, even strangers, can tell that. He always seemed so happy around her, so upbeat compared to her negativity, the sun in her rain clouds. I mean, sure, she was pretty jealous and bordering on overwhelming, but I never heard him complain about it. "But why?"

Jade gives a hard, rough laugh that has nothing to do with humor. "Because he doesn't know what to do with his life. He doesn't know if he wants me in it or not." She shakes her head before pressing a hand to her mouth. I watch her eyes squeeze shut and I try to imagine what that feels like, the kind of pain that's throbbing inside of her, but I can't. I don't know what two years feels like loving another person. I don't know what it's like to be Jade.

"Jade ..." My natural instinct is to hug her, to smooth down her hair like I have for a dozen past friends who have gone through breakups. But their breakups were different - the relationships were brief, more like flings than anything, and it didn't take much for them to bounce back. But two years was a long time to love someone, to call them yours, and it was an entirely different kind of pain when it was being severed by someone you thought you had someone real with. Jade isn't a hugging kind of girl - the only person I've seen her affectionate with is Beck. I stand anyway and move toward her, because this is what I know to do, and maybe it'll help. I hold out my arms in an offering, expecting her to reject it, to flinch away from me and toss in an insult just for fun. It's what I've always known her to do.

To my surprise, she stands quickly and her arms lock with a hard grip around my neck, elbows behind my shoulders. Surprised, I remain stiff for a few moments, blinking away the shock before my arms close around her back. Her face is in the curve of my neck and I can feel her torso shaking, spine shuddering, like the seams that have been holding her together are slowly loosening. I've never seen Jade this unraveled before. Hot tears meet my skin. This isn't the first time I've seen Jade cry, but it is the first time I've seen her really, truly broken, where even she thinks things can't be repaired.

She hasn't asked me to help her get Beck back. She hasn't asked me to fix the break-up. This time, it was him who did the breaking up, and that changes things.

"Look." I rub her back slowly before I pry her off of me. Her head is down, black hair shielding her face. I curl a hand around one side, tucking it securely behind her ear. She still doesn't look up, but she isn't pulling away, either, and I wonder just how many people she knows who would allow her to look so vulnerable without criticizing her for it. I guess Beck was the only one up until now. "This is what we're going to do. I'm going to put on a comedy, give you a pair of my pajamas, and you're going to sleep here and cry and I'm going to give you the best advice I can, okay?"

Jade's lips push into a hard smile again. This time, there is a hint of something behind her eyes, but it's dull and shadowed, clouded by her tears. Another deep breath makes her lungs shake, but she nods. "Okay, but if you tell anyone about this, anyone, Vega -"

"You'll lick my bones clean, I got you. Now." I bring her into another hug. She clings to me just as desperately as before, and it's so weird seeing her like this, like peeking through a hole in and egg's shell and seeing the sensitive yolk inside. She smells like the chilly air outside and coffee - just like I imagine a broken heart smells like. "You stay here and I'll be right back." Giving her a cheerful smile, I push her toward the bed and watch as she slowly sinks onto it, wiping her wrists beneath her eyes.

And as I leave her there, weeping as calmly as she can in my room, I realize that even stone walls can shake - even the most protected castles can have their drawbridges busted open.


	3. Chapter 3

**_|Jade|_ **

I wake up to a ceiling that isn't mine.

I blink a few times. A dozen scenarios flood my brain: I've been kidnapped. Someone abducted me from my bedroom and has sentenced me to a life of torture in their basement. I am waking up from a four year long coma. I was in a car accident and my body is in pieces and the doctors are just about to give up on bringing me back. I do remember riding in a car at night and watching lights change and horns bellowing and a hand that I was gripping like it was the only thing keeping me afloat but there's no sound, no screeching rubber or metal crumpling like aluminum foil in a fist, no glass shattering and embedding into my face, no whiplash, no sore neck from the seatbelt.

So, I'm alive. There's that, at least.

I blink once more, and that's all it takes to push the sleep away, to come back into my body limb by limb and really figure out where I am. The walls are purple and white and in the center of the ceiling is a dome shaped light that's off, but there's sun leaking through the cracks in the curtains. I follow the streams of yellow across the white carpet, up the side of the bed, and finally over a lump beside me with just a fountain of brown hair spewing from the top. Soft sounds of breathing accompany the slightest rise and fall of where the lump's chest would be.

Sitting up as carefully as I can (which is weird because I don't care if I wake her up and yet here I am gingerly peeling back the comforter and stepping off of the bed), I move around the bed and out the door, looking back and forth down the empty hallway. It must still be early because the house is silent - no music, no voices, no TV. I cross the hall into the bathroom, shutting the door with a soft click behind me.  
Tori's pajamas fit me pretty well. My tits are bigger than hers, but there's plenty of room in the baggy t-shirt she gave me to wear. It has some kind of charity on the front, represented by a beach ball and palm trees. I didn't ask what it was for. I don't care. Her sweatpants are rumpled and warm from me sleeping in them, and I let them fall to the floor in a heap. I go to the bathroom and then crank the shower on, the loud thundering of water beating against the bottom of the tub erupting. The shirt joins the pants and then I'm stepping into the hot stream, twisting the handle as far to the red bar as I can tolerate. My skin beams red from the heat but I keep twisting it, until I cry out loud, whimper, and fall to my knees, wet, black strands of hair twisting down the sides of my face and shoulders.

I cry in there for a long time. The steam clouds the entire room in a fog. My fingernails carve crescents into my knees. I look at Tori and Trina's soaps. Pomegranate, cherry blossom, citrus, vanilla - some of the bottles have TO marked on the top, others with TA, but I wash myself just with Tori's, though I couldn't tell you why. I use all of her scents and then her shampoo and I even find her razor, pink with butterflies spiraling toward the top, and I run my thumb across the blade. It doesn't work the first time, so I do it again - harder, faster, and with a great, gasping sting, blood swells from my thumb and drips the water pink before swirling down the drain.

By the time I finish, I feel like an entire day has gone by. I turn off the water, my skin hot and numb and wrinkled and aching, thumb pulsing, and I tear open the curtain. The mirror is completely shrouded with steam and I use my forearm to wipe it clear. My eyes and face are various shades of red, my shoulders blotchy from the extreme temperature of the water. I snatch a towel from beneath the sink and wrap myself in it, crumpling on top of the toilet.

Last night, Tori put in some comedy that I have already forgot the name of. I didn't even pay much attention to it, even though my eyes were on the screen. Tori didn't seem to mind. The popcorn she had prepared remained untouched and she didn't hold me or force me to talk about anything the whole night. The movie ended, she put the popcorn on the bedside table, and asked if I was tired. I had nodded, throwing the blankets over my head, and burrowing myself in the softness of her mattress. As soon as she had laid down, however, and I took a deep breath that smelled nothing like Beck's cologne or Beck's car or Beck's house or Beck's coffee, I had pressed my face so far into Tori's pillow I couldn't breathe, and sobs wrenched me into pieces.

Tori had touched my back. She had curled close to me from behind and rested her forehead on the back of my neck, arms on my waist, just holding me. She didn't tell me everything was going to be okay. She didn't reassure me with empty sentences. She just held me in silence, rubbing my spine, breathing soft and even into my hair until I fell asleep to the faint beat of her heart against my back. And that was enough.

I find one of Tori's brushes in the drawer. Everything is labeled between her and her sister and I can't really imagine what it's like to have someone so close in age that you have to share such a small space with. I don't have any siblings. I don't know what that's like. I can't even get along with my parents all that much and I barely see them. I'd probably tear Trina into pieces if I had to stay with her for an extended period of time. I run the brush through my hair until the black strands run straight, and then I brush it backwards, find a pile of hairties and use one of them to wrap my hair in a bun on top of my head. I don't wear my hair up - ever, because Beck always said he liked it down. My shoulders look paler, wider, the slopes of my collarbones more defined. I run my fingertips across them, my still bleeding thumb leaving a red smear on the white flesh, my chest a Japanese flag. I wipe it off with the edge of the towel.

"Jade?"

I jump at the voice, spinning toward the bathroom door. It's locked, but I still feel like I could be exposed and she could see me naked and no one has seen me naked except for Beck and what if he never sees me naked again what if I never let anyone see me naked what if -

"Are you okay?" Her voice is scratchy and quiet with sleep.

"No." I drop the towel and reach for Tori's pajamas again. "I'll be right out. I bled on your razor, you should probably throw it away."

There's silence. I can picture her thinking, with her lip between her teeth and her eyebrows carving worried words into her forehead. "Jade, you're not - you're not cutting yourself in there, are you?"

"Just my thumb. No major arteries. Nothing to be worried about, Vega." I pull her sweatpants up my damp legs and then her baggy t-shirt over my head. I smell like her all over, her soaps having washed away Beck, her clothes covering up the body I only ever gave to Beck. It's like I'm wearing her to cover myself up; a full body mask.

There's more silence. I open the door and she nearly falls into me. Her brown mass of hair is in the worst state I've ever seen it - like she stood in front of an enormous fan and stayed there for an hour. For some reason, it's funny, and I find my lips pressing upward before I can stop it, before I even know what I'm smiling about. Her eyes are wide, grazing over my bare shoulders, my neck, my face, my hair, rolled into a wet ball on my head. I reach out, tugging on one end of a severely twisted length of hair.

"Good morning, Mufasa."

Tori blinks. Twice. And then she smiles, too, and there's even a giggle in there somewhere. "Jade West is funny. How about that."

"That's when you know I'm in a terrible mood."

We move back to her bedroom. She sits in front of her vanity, wrestling her hair while I perch on her bed again. I look down at my throbbing thumb. It's stopped bleeding, but I put it between my lips anyway and flick my tongue across it. Tori sees me in the reflection, reaching for one of her drawers. "Need a bandaid?"

I shake my head, pushing myself back on her bed with my feet and resting my back against her headboard. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say to her, if there's anything to say at all. I know she's confused as all hell why I keep coming to her when things go to shit when I could easily go to Cat. I run my teeth around the sliver of split skin. It hurts, so I do it again. I can't answer those questions myself, honestly. From the moment she started attending Hollywood Arts, I haven't treated her with much kindness. In fact, I went out of my way to make her life as miserable as possible. I tried to ruin her Prome night. I mock the way she (doesn't) talk. I belittle her with everything she does, and then I come running after her when I need someone to fall apart in front of. She's seen me weak more than anyone aside from Beck, but I'm not sure where that puts her. Does letting her see the jagged edges of me mean I like her or hate her?

"You look nice with your hair up."

I turn out of my thoughts and lower my thumb from my mouth. "Nice as in aesthetically pleasing or nice as in not mean?"

"Pretty." She smiles at me before turning back to her vanity, still yanking a brush through her hair.

I don't know what to say to that. Beck is the only person who ever compliments me. "Thanks." It's all I can think of to say. Do I compliment her back? I'm not good with these kinds of interactions. I actually despise them and do my best to avoid them whenever possible. "Er, you too."

Tori laughs. "You're really awful at friendship, you know?"

"That's why I don't have any." I lay down on her bed with my arms behind my head. My eyes close. I see Beck on my eyelids. Smiling through his hair, touching his chin. Something in me twists and squeezes and it hurts so much, so I press my nail into my injured thumb until the waves of it drown the pain of Beck out.

"I'm your friend."

It's a softly spoken statement. I sit up, eyes opening to watch her sit with her hair in a loose ponytail and her hands on her knees. She's chewing her lip at me.

"I'm a complete bitch to you."

"I know. But I'm still your friend."

"Why?"

Her shoulders shift. "Because I care about you."

"Why?"

"You're a good person."

That makes me laugh a dry, hollow sound. "Don't."

"You are."

"Am I?" I'm mad now, not at her, really, but she's in the vicinity and that's just unfortunate. "Really? I'm a good person? So great that Beck just had to break up with me because he just couldn't stand how fucking amazing I am?" I feel like hitting something - not her, just something fragile, something I can break and shatter and look at the pieces and point at and say here, this is what I look like.

Tori's face remains calm. She just blinks at me. And then she stands and moves toward the edge of the bed and sits on it. I don't look at her. I look at my healing thumb.

"It hurts so bad," I whisper, to my thumb, to the walls, to myself - to Tori, maybe. "So fucking bad."

She touches my leg. I grab her hand and squeeze it and make a choking sound. I don't want to be touched. I want to be touched all over. I want to disappear. I want someone to see me.

Tori looks at me. I look at her.

I say, "It hurts."

She says, "I know," - not because she's felt the same thing. Not because she can imagine what I'm going through. That's not what she means. She just knows that it hurts because it's obvious. Because I'm telling her.

She hugs me and I let her, and I let her touch the back of my neck, which is a place I've reserved for Beck, and I let her see me broken. I let her feel the broken pieces. I'm showing her what I look like.  
I think I tell her thank you. Not necessarily with my words, but it's said. She says you're welcome by hugging me tighter and letting me cry.


	4. Chapter 4

**_|Tori|_ **

I'm pretty sure I've been transported to some alternate universe. I almost check to see if gravity still works and the sky is still blue, because Jade isn't the Jade I've known her to be all this time. The sharp edges she's always been with, razored and pointed in my direction, just waiting to draw blood, have dulled and rounded over, becoming soft and safe to touch. And she lets me touch her. A lot. Which is weird, but surprisingly not unpleasant.

After she calms herself following her short cry on my bed, I put in another movie. I don't know what it is, not even conscious when I pop open the DVD case and throw the disc in. I move back to the bed and sit beside her and without either of us really thinking about it, our hands find each other in the space between our thighs. Her fingers are hot from the shower, squeezing the spaces between mine. It's not that I mind, exactly - affection is generally a fully accepted aspect of friendship, it's just weird coming from her. The only person I've ever seen her touch is Beck. She would stroke his arm in the hallway, tangle their hands together, lean in so her nose would dip into the curve of his neck. It was romantic, cute, and it was the only time anyone saw the Jade below the rough exterior, the yolk inside the egg.

I blink for a second. Wait, did I just - I did. I called what Jade and I have as a friendship. I glance at her. Her hair is up and it makes her face look different - not bad, no, just different. I've never seen it without her long, thick locks of dark hair tumbling down the sides. I'm not above admitting out loud that Jade is almost inhumanly pretty; she's got this amazing bone structure that just begs to be sculpted into something or painted on a canvas. Without all of her hair in the way, though, I can see more of the lines that make up her shoulders and neck and the delicate slant of her jawbone as it curves below her ear.

I've always known that she's pretty, but it's occurring to me now that she's actually extremely beautiful.

I furrow my brows at her profile. I told her I was her friend. Which I am, but that's just the thing - I'm her friend. That doesn't necessarily mean that she's mine. That's a two way street, and I can be there for her all I want and treat her with as much kindness as I can manage, but if she doesn't reciprocate the friendship, I can't force her.

What if all I am to her is some crutch? A bandaid? A fix she can only get from me because I'm more reliable than the spacey Cat?

I try not to think about it. As the movie drags on, Jade's thumb does the occasional brushing over the back of my palm. I try to ignore it, to pass it off as just spontaneous, vulnerable Jade trying to find some comfort, but it makes all the hairs on my arms grow frigid with attention. She either doesn't notice the effect she's having or is choosing not to say anything.

After the movie fades to black, we go downstairs to rummage around for some food. It's already nearly noon, so I throw in a pizza for us to share. Jade sits on the arm of the couch Trina is sprawled on, a bag of Doritos on her stomach. She's so engrossed in whatever TV show she's watching, she barely glances up as the oven warms up in silence. I'm about to ask Jade something, anything to try and get a conversation going, but a) she doesn't even look like she's in her head at all and b) my parents come downstairs.

Mom, applied with fresh make-up, smiles in surprise at Jade and I realize I had forgotten to even mention she was there. Dad eyes her with suspicion before moving to the kitchen.

"Oh, yeah, Mom, this is Jade. You remember her."

"Of course I do!" Mom, all blinding smiles and kind eyes, draws Jade into an awkward, tense hug. Jade's green eyes peel over to glare at me from the living room, and all I can do is give her an apologetic wince.   
"You didn't say you were having friends over, Tori."

"I'm watching TV," Trina says loudly, her knee jumping.

Everyone smoothly ignores her. "Sorry," I say. "It wasn't planned."

"Is everything okay?" Mom's eyebrows crook with concern as she pulls away from Jade to find her eyes. "Are you all right?"

I can tell by the way Jade's mouth falls open and closes and the way her eyes dart with confusion between my eyes that she's not used to this kind of treatment, so much so that she doesn't even know how to react. She finally gives a startled blink and a jumpy nod. This day is all about firsts, apparently - now Jade is acting out of control, like she's been torn from her element, and she doesn't know how to do anything. I watch as she tries to subtly put space between her and my mom.

"I'm fine, thanks."

Mom eyes her for a moment. Dad is making a bunch of noise behind me in the fridge. Finally, she just smiles and nods. "Okay. You're always welcome here, Jade, if you need a place to go." Mom turns over her shoulder to find my eyes. It's a silent question and, with a nod, I'm telling her that I'll explain later. I've had a close relationship with my mom since I was able to talk, and it bothers me that Jade obviously doesn't have that. She's so uncomfortable that she just makes her way upstairs without saying anything. I start to follow her only for my mom to plant her hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

"I'll tell you later, Mom."

"Is she okay?"

I stare up the empty staircase. "No," I chew my lip for a moment. "Her boyfriend broke up with her and she doesn't really have anywhere else to go."

Mom frowns, following my gaze. "What about her mom?"

"I don't think they talk much."

"Poor girl." Mom touches the space over her heart. I like to think that, along with the dark hair and dark eyes, I inherited my mom's sense of compassion. She cares so much and it's rooted itself within me, too, to help whenever and however I can. I don't think Jade's asking me to fix her or things between her and Beck - this time, she just wants comfort, and for whatever reason that I still don't understand, I give her that, at least a little.

"I'll talk to you later, 'kay?" I touch my mom's arm as I pass her, heading toward the stairs, only for the stove to give a happy 'ding' to announce the pizza. I jerk back but Mom is already opening the stove, pulling on an oven mitt with one hand.

"Don't worry, I'll bring it up to you guys." Mom smiles, eyes crinkling, and I blow her a kiss out of gratitude before flying up the stairs.

I find Jade sitting on my bed, hands folded, eyes on the floor. She doesn't look up as I walk in, but she says quietly, "Your mom is nice."

I stare at her for a minute. "She is." I sit tentatively on the mattress beside her. I expect her to flinch away, but she hasn't been acting like the typical Jade at all today - she simply stays where she is. I can see a flash of her teeth as they come to rest on her lower lip. It's then she looks up, black lashes brushing the tops of her eyes.

"Is that okay with you?"

"What?"

"Me coming here if I want - need to."

I give her a firm nod and a smile that I mean. "Of course you can. You should know that by now."

Jade nods. "Can I - is it okay if I stay another night? I just, it's the weekend and Mom is never home and I don't want to be there by myself yet."

My smile broadens. "Yeah, absolutely. We can do whatever you want today."

"Whatever I want?"

"Yep."

She smiles and her hand flattens on her knee, over the sweatpants I lent her. "No more cheesy movies?"

I give a light laugh. "Sure."

There's a knock at the door and my mom emerges, the pizza rolling steam from a tray in her hands. It's already sliced into pieces. She beams at us, placing the tray atop a placemat on my vanity.

"Thanks, Mom."

"No problem. You girls enjoy."

I watch the way Jade stares after her when she leaves. Ignoring my initial fear of asking Jade about her personal life, I take a chance after chewing my first bite of pizza. "So, is your mom nice?"

The question instantly makes Jade stiffen and I wish I could take it back. She was finally loosening up and I had to ruin it. I swallow hard, shaking my head and waving the hand not holding the pizza uselessly in front of me. "You don't have to answer that, I was just wondering -"

"No." Jade pulls the cheese from the top of the pizza. "She's not."

Silence wedges between us. I watch her pull the cheese into pieces and nibble on them, then swiping the sauce with the pads of her fingers and licking them clean. Then, with her jaw set, she starts to dissect the bread part of the pizza, cutting them with her nails.

"I'm sorry," I say after awhile, not being able to come up with anything else.

Jade's shoulders, sharp in the t-shirt I lent her, rise and fall. "It's not a big deal. I'm fine."

"No you're not." It comes out before I can stop it. I expect her to lash out, to say something mean to me, but she just gives a slow blink and swallows the rest of her pizza before looking up at me. Her eyes are deep, the two orbs of green striped with black.

And then she says, "You're right, Vega, I'm not," and I'm pretty sure this is the first time Jade has ever admitted that I was right about something. Normally, something like that would have killed her.

"You're going to be okay, you know." My hand creeps over her knee. We both stare at her. Touching her feels ... nice. It makes her seem more human than she's ever been. Instead of stone, she has flesh and blood and veins and all of the things I do - lungs and a brain and parts of her that hurt just like mine. She has a heart, and it's throbbing in her ribcage like a wounded bird. "I promise."

"Don't." She tears away from me and stands. My hand thumps to the mattress. "Don't make promises. Don't ever promise me anything." Her voice is sharp, cutting the space between us in half as she stalks to my window and leans against the sill. "They aren't worth a shit, Tori. Ever."

I stare at her back. The shirt is baggy, but I can still see the lines of her shoulderblades slicing across her back like jagged wings. I remain sitting. "They are with the right people."

"Shut up!" Jade whirls, a thick link protruding in her neck. Her eyes are narrowed to dangerous slits. "Just don't, Tori. I have learned the hard way not to put my faith in people, let alone people like you -"  
"People like me? What's that supposed to mean?" I try to keep my voice calm, but unlike my mother, I've never been able to keep a level head.

"People that make promises they can't possibly keep. You don't know if I'm going to be okay or not, so don't try and guarantee it'll come true. I love him, and that's something you can't understand. You don't get this. You have no idea how this feels."

"You're right, I don't, but I've been nothing but nice to you since you got here -"

"I don't need your kindness!"

"Then why are you here, Jade?" I stand, too, and our eyes meet on the same level.

A sound catches in her throat. Her arms are shaking. She doesn't know and she doesn't have to say it for me to understand that - I can see it in her eyes. Slowly, I approach, as wary of her as I would be a venomous snake. Extending my hand, I watch as she darts her gaze between my eyes, fingertips brushing the length of her arm.

"Maybe it was wrong of me to promise something I don't know will come true. So, okay, I won't promise you things. But I do believe you'll be okay if you give yourself time and stay optimistic about the situation."  
Jade snorts. "Jesus, Tori, you don't know shit about love, do you?"

I study her. She's brimming over with love I don't understand because I've never felt it, and you wouldn't expect that from someone as hard as her. "I know ... I know shit about other things." The swear word tastes gritty on my tongue. It surprises Jade to the point of her raising her eyebrows. I try to play it smoothly. "Like ... like friendship, and helping people out, and I want to do that with you, Jade. I want to be your friend. And I know - I know you say you don't have friends, but maybe, maybe I could be, you know? Maybe you could try?"

Jade gives a loud sigh and presses her back to the glass of my window. "People can be really shitty."

"I know. People have hurt me, too. You forget that I have the same feelings you do."

She stares at me in silence. I let her because I can see thoughts circling in her head through her eyes.

Finally, with a slight incline of her chin, she says, "Okay."

"Okay ...?"

"We're friends, Vega."

I smile hard. Without thinking much about it, I spread my arms. Had it been Cat or Andre or Robbie, they would have understood the universal sign for 'let's hug', but Jade just stands there. I try to brush off the awkward space of time by coughing low in my throat. "Uhm, we hug now."

Green eyes roll. "What is it with you and hugging?"

"Friends hug. It's a law."

Her lips purse, but she doesn't refuse me. Instead, she steps into my arms, her own crooking around my back. She feels soft and pliable in my hands - I don't want to change her, necessarily, but I want to change the way she thinks of other people. Not everyone breaks promises. Not everyone is going to leave her. I know I won't, and I don't say it out loud, but I promise her that.


	5. Chapter 5

**_|Jade|_ **

After Tori takes a shower, we change into shorts and bikini tops and go out back on her deck. The sun washes over the green, fenced in yard in hot yellow rays. The warmth seeps through me, giving my pale flesh a fluorescent glow. Tori barely owns any black clothing, so I went with the next best thing - dark purple. The shorts aren't the same shade as the bikini top, but I figure she's the only one who's going to see me and, considering the emotional mess I've been, I don't feel the need to impress her.

Tori plugs in a radio and switches it to some pop station before the two of us sprawl out on identical lawn chairs. The sky is a fierce blue, cloudless, and the sun makes us squint through our sunglasses. I tear my hair out from my bun, letting the now dry strands tumble down in crimped, crooked waves. Tori folds her hands on her stomach with her legs crossed at the ankles. She's already a glowing bronze color which I used to envy in my less confident days, until I realized that I only range between burnt lobster and marshmallow. I've come to terms with my inability to tan.

Still, it feels nice. We bathe in the sun without speaking for a time, the radio pumping out catchy tempos and shitty lyrics. Tori's feet bounce with the beat, a soft hum in her throat. Normally that shit would irritate me, but I can't find the energy to tell her to shut up. Besides, what she said back in her bedroom was true - she's been nothing but nice and patient with me since I got here, despite the lengthy list of awful things I've done just to spite her. It really pains me to say that Tori's a good person - perfect, no, but good. Everyone has a heart, but so few know how to really use it. Tori does.

I close my eyes. Tori, my friend. Tori Vega, the girl I always seem to run to. My brows knit together at the thought, not comfortable at all with the sound of it, the notion that I need people. Where would I be if I had stayed home this weekend? What kind of bizarre, impulsive things would I have done? A shudder that has nothing to do with the breeze shakes my spine. The thing is, I don't know what I would have done. Something stupid, probably. Beck - I flinch and swallow - Beck was my whole world. Is. Is my whole world. And he's taking himself away and wedging distance between us just because he doesn't know what he wants.

My heart gives a hollow, pathetic thump. He doesn't know if he wants me. He doesn't know if he loves me anymore.

"God damnit." I snatch the sunglasses away and press my wrist into one of my already stinging eyes. I've already cried more than enough in the past twenty-four hours. Time to suck it up, West, I think to myself before shoving the sunglasses back up my nose. I glance sideways to find Tori twisted on her side, watching me. Even through the dark lenses of her own glasses, I can see the crooks of her eyebrows like little frowning lips.

"You can cry. It's okay."

I distort my face at her. "No, thanks. I've done enough of that."

Her smile is apologetic. "Are you nervous for Monday?"

My head falls back against the chair again, sun warm on my legs and stomach. A fingertip traces my bellybutton. Even the word Monday sends my heart into a pattering mess. My stomach knots, my lungs close up, and I'm left just sitting there with no function organs. After a minute (and a few deep breaths), I give a slow, reluctant nod. I can't remember the last time I ever admitted something like that to anyone other than Beck, and the fact that it's Tori should bug the absolute shit out of me, but it doesn't. I turn to look at her again and think of her back in the bedroom, telling me she wants to be my friend, that I should give it a go.   
I've never had the kind of friend that you gush gossip to and tell secrets and have sleepovers - I'm used to acquaintances or people that I just find useful or convenient.

Tori's different, though, and I still don't know why, and thinking about it gives me a headache.

"You're going to be fine, I pro -" She cuts herself off quick, teeth crashing down on her lower lip. She shifts her legs and tries again. "You'll be fine. It'll be tough, but you're Jade West, remember?"

That twitches a smile out of me. "And I'm tough as nails?"

"Exactly."

We smile at each other. It feels strange because this is a Beck thing, a Beck-like conversation that I'm having, and the sense of ease that's settling over me can't all be due to the sun. It's because I want to trust her - I need to, because Beck isn't that person anymore and I can't be alone. My fingers pick at themselves, my lips pressing into a flat line as I turn my head up toward the sun. I need people. At least one person, and it might as well be Tori. She's the most capable and probably the only willing person who would bother treating me with kindness I don't deserve.

A sigh flutters from my lips. "It's just, you know. Everyone is going to talk."

Tori's right leg bends at the knee, one of her hands resting atop it. She gives another smile. "And since when have you cared about what other people say?"

I shake my head. "It's not the bad things I'm worried about. It's the good things." I twist toward her, trying to ignore the image of fluffy best friends that the media has always shown me where they're always giggling in high enough pitches to bust glass. "People are going to be all 'oh, I'm so sorry' or 'oh, it'll be okay, honeypie' or 'oh, there's more fish in the sea' or -" My throat closes up, cutting off my words. Even imaging their faces, all warped with faux concern makes me sick. I don't need that kind of comfort, the kind they don't mean. "Shit." I turn away from her, my fingers pressing against my lips. This is ridiculous. I feel raw, like my skin has been peeled off and everyone is free to poke and prod at the sensitive tissues and muscles that keep me together.

"I'll protect you from them."

I blink, managing to keep the tears at bay as I turn to face Tori again. She's taken off her glasses and is squinting at me through the sun. Her face shows that same expression of determination she always has in class, when she's about to act in front of an audience or sing a song. Even when she first moved here and I wanted nothing more than to push her out of a window, I couldn't help but admire her sense of self. She knows what she's capable of and she doesn't give up. I have yet to see her do so.

"Seriously." Tori smiles. "I will. I'll keep them away."

My eyebrows perk at her in disbelief. "And how do you plan to do that? Stay with me all day?"

Tori's lips morph from a happy smile to a kind of confident smirk. "You're not the only one who can intimidate people, you know. I can be scary."

That rumbles laughter out of me before I can think to stop it. "You're about as intimidating as a wet kitten."

Her expression changes again. It's a new one, something I haven't seen before - the longer I stare at it, the more it comes off as almost sexy, and something tells me this is the face she makes when she's flirting with boys. "Kittens have claws."

I laugh again. Again, I'm reminded of Beck and the way I felt comfortable with him and how I've always been able to let loose when we were together. Here, with Tori, it's different - but it's a good different, something I didn't feel when with Beck. I figure it's just because we're both girls and I've never had a girl friend. Cat and I hang out from time to time, but she's Cat, and the deepest thought she has is probably remembering to breathe.

"All right, Vega. I'm going to hold you to that." I face the sun again. It is comforting knowing that someone gives a shit, even if it makes me a little uncomfortable. It's not that I don't want to, I'm just not used to showing that kind of vulnerability. I put everything sensitive in Beck's hands and he ripped it up, all while telling me he was sorry.

A song comes on that we both know, an old Ginger Fox tune that she released back before she started snorting cocaine in her dressing room and getting arrested for public drunkenness. Tori and I both belt out the words, not focusing so much on outdoing each other with our talent, but simply enjoying the music. She sings into her sunglasses like a microphone and I grab the suntan lotion from the ground and mimic her. By the time the second chorus comes around, we're both climbing out of our chairs and twirling across her deck. We're laughing between lines, dancing around each other, and at one point she puts her hands on my hips and pulls me close. My arms rest on either of her shoulders, trying to bite back my giggling as she sways me from side to side. We sing to each other, her forehead resting against mine as the song ends, the final note ringing from our mouths in harmony.

As soon as it's over and the radio switches over to a commercial, Tori's head falls back with a long, loud laugh, her hands still on my hips when she tilts it forward again to meet my eyes. "We should do duets more often."

I smile at her, giving my shoulders a shrug while still keeping my arms around her tawny neck. "I'm down with that."

Her hands are hot on my hips. We stand there a moment longer, the two of us grinning stupidly at each other, until finally she slips away. She walks on her tiptoes back to her lawn chair, sinking on top of it. I follow after her, blowing a puff of air from my lungs before I descend on her lap, legs bent over her armrest. My head falls on her shoulder, eyes drooping closed, the combination of her hot skin against mine and the sun drowning us and my stomach full of pizza making me drowsy. This is the closest I've been to anyone other than Beck, and I realize that I've been thinking that to myself a lot in the past day. I only did this with Beck before, Beck was the only one, Beck Beck Beck - I put a hand over my where my heart is, fingers rubbing slow circles into the skin. I don't know what to make of that, of this, of Tori replacing Beck. I frown at my thoughts. 'Replacing' doesn't feel like the right word. I'm not filling her in in Beck's place because I somehow know for a fact that Tori wouldn't leave me. She's proven time and time again that she wants nothing but to be my friend, which I don't fully understand, but it's still a valid truth that I can hold onto.

One of Tori's arms lounges across my lap, the other behind my back. I look up at her, eyes narrowed against the sun. "Tori, if you tell anyone I said this, I will deny it until I die, but I'm -" I stop, chewing on my tongue, like I'm trying to taste the words before I say them to make sure they come up right. "Thank you for this weekend. I don't - it would have been even shittier if I had spent it alone."

"I wish I could do more." The arm behind my back drapes over my shoulder. It's affectionate, it's close, and it's not Beck - I've been broken up with, but I'm not delusional - but it's still nice, and I lean a little more into her. "I know he loves you, Jade. Everyone does. Maybe he's just, you know, a little confused, but if he's half as smart as I think he is, he'll be back."

I look down at my hands, palm up. I trace over the lines that stitch them together with my eyes. I think about the thousands of times Beck held them, kissed them, shoved them into his pockets when it was cold. I curl them into fists, like I'm squeezing the memories, trying to wring them out so I can see what's left behind. Did Beck ever look at me doubtfully without me noticing? Did he ever flinch away from my touch and I was just too in love to see it? Was he really that confused for so long and I didn't pick up on it, not even a little?

"But what if -" I stop. I open my hands again. "But what if it'd be wrong to take him back? I mean -" I sit up straight, now looking down at her. "If he's just going to push me around like this and play love games with me, maybe I, maybe I need -" I sink again. Picturing myself with anyone but Beck by myself literally makes my torso feel like it's been vacuumed out. But Beck was right - this is the first real relationship we've ever been in. Is it necessary to date other people? "Maybe I need to date someone else. That's what he made it seem like, like he couldn't be sure of me until he had been with other girls. But isn't that complete bullshit? If you love someone, then you love them, right?" I cross my arms but it only increases the pressure in my chest. "Maybe I don't need a guy like that. I need a guy who's gonna, you know, stay with me because he loves me and not toss me around like some puppy."

Tori's silent. Her hand starts rubbing my shoulder like she's trying to calm me and I realize that I'm starting to shake, that not much of what I said made a whole lot of sense, and my throat is tight again. I swallow the urge to cry once more, determined to wedge some strength between me and the power Beck has always held over me.

Finally, Tori takes a breath. "Look. We both know Beck is not a bad guy. You guys were really good for each other, you know? And I agree with you - if he loved you, and I mean truly, forever-love, always-love, then he would have stayed." She shrugs. "Maybe you do need to date other guys. That doesn't mean you have to make any long term commitment or anything, but you'll have, like, experience." Tori rubs a hand against her forehead. "I'm not a relationship therapist."

I nod. "You're not, but I can't afford one and you're the next best thing. So." I clap my hands together. "That's it, then. I'll go on a date. I'll see what else is out there. And Beck -" Once more, my words are chopped down by my mouth just by the sound of his name. I take a deep breath and start again. "He'll have no problem getting dates, that's for sure."

"Promise me that you're not going to murder any girls he asks out."

I give a slow smile and it's mostly sad but at least it's found its way to my lips. "I don't make promises."

My head falls on her shoulder again. Another song starts up, one I'm not familiar with, but Tori is - she hums it softly in my ear, her hand still rubbing my arm, and damn if I don't feel safe.


	6. Chapter 6

**_|Tori|_ **

"I thought you would be a straight black kind of coffee drinker."

Jade smirks at me as she tears open a packet of sugar, holding it above her steaming coffee and tapping the bottom, white crystals sinking. "Believe it or not, Vega, I have a soul, and I like my coffee sweet."

I laugh at her, pressing my back against the counter while I hold my cup in front of me, twirling my straw. Starbucks is busy at this time of day, buzzing with conversation and smelling thick of pastries and caramel. I suck it in and let it stir warmly in my lungs. I love the atmosphere of coffee shops; people are clicking away at their laptops, an old couple smiling at a small table by the window, high school kids - some Jade and I recognize but haven't addressed - drinking far too much caffeine, a business man jogging out of the door with his espresso - it's like the center of the world. All kinds of faces melting together for a nice cup of Joe.  
Smiling into my cup, I take a careful sip before pressing the warm cup against my sternum. Jade pours two more packets of sugar into her drink before she trots toward an empty table meant for two. I follow behind her. She's wearing more of my clothes - the darkest pair of jeans I could find and a v-neck white t-shirt. I've never seen her in white before. It's quite the contrast against her dark hair and pale skin, like a painting done in all the right colors to confuse the eyes. I sit across from her, my fingers tenting around my cup. She's looking out the window, green eyes magnified in brightness by the sun streaming in at a yellow slant. I study her with my chin balancing on the humps of my knuckles. It's weird and strange and completely opposite, the way she's been treating me, the way I've been treating her - this whole scenario is so bizarre, it's hard for me to wrap my head around it. When we first met, I was convinced we'd be nothing but enemies, maybe acquaintances, but never friends. Never this. I hang out with Andre and Cat like this, even Robbie sometimes, but Jade ... I could have never hoped for a friendship with her.

My heart stirs. I smile, more to myself than to her. I mean, it sucks that it was under these circumstances, that her boyfriend broke up with her and that's what brought her here. She didn't seek me out out of kindness or the need to have a good friend or because she thinks I'm a nice girl. She came to me because she needs someone and now that it's can't be Beck, she chose me. I press my lips to the small opening on the lid and let the hot liquid splash against my tongue. I'm not sure how I feel about being her second choice - I guess it's a good thing, considering I wasn't anything before. And she must have thought good things about me previously or she would have gone to someone else, or no one at all.

I flick my gaze up to her again. She's still looking out the window. She's not frowning, but no smile generally means nothing good. I reach across, slowly, the cold tabletop chilling the skin on the underside of my wrist as my fingers brush the top of her hand. Jade doesn't look at me, eyelids half-blinking over her eyes. I can already recognize the tension in her throat, the struggle to swallow - I know all of these signs of her about to cry, of her holding back. My fingers circle around her hand and give a squeeze. It takes her a moment to respond, but her hand finally presses tightly against mine, her eyelids finally falling closed and crinkling at the corners.

I've never been in love, not like Jade was. Is. The closest I ever got was dating Steven who, for three months, cheated on me with an Internet celebrity. Or he cheated on her. He cheated on both of us - and that hurt. It hurt and it sucked and even though Carly and I humiliated him in front of hundreds, possibly even thousands of people, it didn't make me feel any better. I spent that weekend curled up in my room, breaking the charm bracelet Steven gave me into pieces. But that was it, really; a weekend of feeling like crap, eating ice cream, and then I was pretty much back to normal. I liked Steven a lot. He made me feel special, we got along really well, but once you find out someone has been lying to you for three months, every good feeling you have about them kind of disappears.

With Jade, it's completely different. Beck wasn't mean to her, didn't cheat on her - he didn't break up with her out of malice.

And that has got to hurt even worse, because I don't think she's even mad at him.

Jade's eyes open again. She sips from her coffee, still holding my hand. "I feel completely lost."

I blink at her. It's the most personal thing she's ever said. Not just the words themselves, but the severity in her voice when she said it. The tone of her voice, the way her eyes waver as they meet mine - I don't have to be convinced. She has no idea what to do, where to go, how to deal with this. And she's chosen me as her guide and I don't even have any experience in things like this. I feel like a blind shepherd leading sheep. They don't know where to go and God knows I don't, but they put all their faith in me anyway, even as I grope my way around.

Abandoning my cup, I slide my other hand to hold hers, both of my arms now stretched across the table. "I'm right here."

I don't know why I say it, like I'm some beacon for her to go to when she's lost - it seems silly to think of myself like that. I've been peoples' close friends before, and I've dealt with my friends going through breakups, but this is so much more than a four month fling with a boy they had just met. This is deeper. This is Jade, and I can't handle her the same way I have other people. She's different.

"Yeah." She gives a slow nod. "I know."

We finish our coffee, then climb back into my car. She asks if we can stop at her house to get her toothbrush and some homework. I can tell she doesn't want to go to her house at all, but I don't ask why. I still remember quite clearly the last time I tried to bring up her personal life and how she lashed out at me. I don't want to cause any unnecessary anger right now. She has enough of it. We drive with the radio volume on low. Her hand is out the window. She rolls it with the wind like she's swimming, dark strands of hair whipping against the back of the seat like flightless wings. I'm struck again by how pretty she is - not in the same way conventional models are pretty or even the standard singer. She's so unique looking, every feature more striking than the last.

It's like looking at art when I see her. The brushstrokes are pretty, the image as a whole is beautiful, but there's always so much more going on beneath the technique.

She directs me quietly from my side. I've never been to her house before, so I'm not sure what I expect, but it's certainly not the enormous, gray-stone mansion I pull into. Okay, mansion is pushing it, but compared to my house, it's a castle. It's fenced in by a black spiked fence and I try to ignore the image of heads resting atop them that rises to the front of my brain. There has to be dozens of windows but they're all dark and empty, the garage behind the house lacking a car. I shut mine off, climbing out slowly and gazing up at the massive structure.

"It's just you and your mom here?" I shut the door. Jade stands on the other side of the car, arms crossed, unimpressed.

"Used to be me, her, and my dad, but since they split, it's just been the mothership and myself. Mostly myself." She throws a look over her shoulder. "C'mon, it'll be quick."

Following behind her, we step up on her porch, saddled with pillars and holding a door that's nearly twice my height. Jade pulls her keys from the pocket of my jeans and shoves one into the lock, the clacking of metal signaling our entry. We spill into the foyer. All the lights are off, which gives the house a haunted house aura, but it's still beautiful. The walls are a dark blue highlighted with indigo. As she leads me into a living area, paintings start to sprinkle the walls, bleach-white carpet sinking beneath my shoes.

"Should I take these off?"

Jade snorts. "I never do." As if to prove her point, she stomps across the living room. I follow a tad more carefully behind her, like I'm afraid to leave footprints, trailing behind Jade through a hallway until we reach a door. This one has a key, too - I watch as she unlocks it, darting her eyes at me and hesitating as she pushes it open.

"I can wait here." I back off. I know she's testy with her privacy, that the only person she let within it had recently left her, so I wasn't about to impose.

She studies me for a long time in silence. I can tell she's trying to decide if she should let me, if she's ready, and I can't say I'm surprised when she tells me to wait there and she'll be right up. She shuts the door behind her, leaving me in the hollow house. I'm not hurt like I thought I would be. I almost feel relieved - if Jade changed too much too quickly, became someone else entirely, it might throw our whole friendship off. There's no need to rush things.

I wander back to the living room. There's a fireplace even though I didn't see a chimney outside. Moving to the ledge, I see pictures. All of them are of a brunette baby with large emerald eyes. It takes me a moment to realize that the little girl is Jade. The most recent one is Jade at what looks like second grade, her bangs curled and puffed. One of her front teeth is missing. I laugh, lifting the frame from the fireplace ledge and looking more closely at it. I can see hints of the Jade I know in this miniature version. Her cheeks are pudgier, eyes larger, smile spread wide. I wish I had known her then, before the world made her tough.

"I was cute, hey?"

I nearly drop the picture. Whirling around, I smack a grinning Jade in the arm before turning back to the photograph. "You're still cute."

Her chin nestles on my shoulder. "That's about the time my parents got divorced. I stopped going to picture day after that."

"Why?"

I feel her shrug and move away from me. She shoulders a backpack while walking backward. "Because, when it asked for an address to deliver the pictures to, I didn't want to have to pick between my mom or dad."

I frown after her as she spins in a slow circle. My parents have been together since high school. It was a perfect teenage movie plot, the way their love worked out, the way it lasted. I always admired them for it. I know that that isn't exactly the norm anymore, that Jade having divorced parents isn't particularly unique, but it has to suck. Jade's only example of love was with Beck and now he's gone against her. She has no love to look up to like I do.

"Let's go," she says, like she can't stand being in her own house, and I can't help but agree. It's a pretty place at face value, but the longer I stay here, the louder the silence is, the more pressing the emptiness becomes. I can see why Jade doesn't want to stay here. I wouldn't, either.

We go back to my car and drive away in silence. There are goosebumps on my arms. Without thinking, I tell her, "Your house gives me the willies."

She laughs, head falling back. "Feels like a mausoleum, doesn't it?"

"Yeah."

"That's because a family died there."

I glance sideways. She's frowning - not out of sadness, but more out of feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that."

"It's okay. It must have been tough watching your parents go through that."

She nods slowly. "It was a long time ago." She says it like it's supposed to mean something, but it doesn't. Not really. Time can heal some wounds, but some take longer than others. It obviously still hurts her, and it's just one more thing I can't connect with, another thing we don't have in common.

Aren't friendships built on similarities? Things two people have in common? I start frowning at the wheel. Jade and I like to sing and act, but so does everyone else in Hollywood Arts. So does everyone in California, practically. That's not what people erect a friendship on; trivial things like that aren't what tie two people together. What did she have in common with Beck other than wanting to a singer or an actor or a director? What kind of secrets did they give each other?

Would she give them to me?

"Jade?"

"Hm?"  
"After this weekend, when you're all ... slightly recovered, and we go back to school, are you - are we -" I don't know how to word it. I glance up at the streetlight blaring red and slow to a stop before twisting to look at Jade. She's focused on me now, a line carved between her brows where they struggle to meet. "Are you still going to be nice to me? Are we still going to be friends?"

The light changes. Without checking both ways, I press the gas, releasing a breath I didn't realize I was holding and then the small space of the car explodes with Jade's voice "STOP!"

My foot crashes on the brake. A large, maroon SUV screeches through the intersection, nearly hitting another car coming from the opposite direction. There's lots of honking and more brakes being slammed on, but no cars hit each other. Adrenaline burns through my veins, panting hard, knuckles bleached white with my fingers choking the steering wheel.

"Tori."

I take another deep breath and look up at the streetlight. It's still green. Jade's hand lands on my arm.

"Tori, drive."

Giving a slight shake of my head to clear my senses, I check both ways before driving away. Nerves are rattling within me, high-strung and nervous, and thinking over what would have happened if Jade hadn't seen the car coming.

"Yes."

I glance cautiously at her, afraid to take my eyes off of the street for even a moment ."What?"

"Yes," she repeats. "We'll still be friends. Hell, if it makes you feel better, we'll get some goddamn friendship necklaces."

I laugh. And then she laughs, and maybe it's the recent horror of almost getting plowed over by a car that makes us laugh so hard, but by the time we get to my house we're both in tears from laughing so hard. I turn off the car, wiping under my eyes and grinning at Jade on the other side of the car.

"I want to hug you again." Giggling behind my hand, I look at her and, after a moment, she extends her arms. I raise my eyebrows at her.

She mirrors my expression. "Well? Get over here, then."

I nearly pull her into my seat. "Is it cheesy to say friends forever?"

"Yes. Never say that again."

I laugh into her ear before burying my face in her hair. She smells like my house, my soap, my shampoo, but beneath that is her scent; something dark and something broken, but fixable. This is a new person, a snake having shed its skin, and she's letting me to not only see but be a part of the transformation, the recovery. She touches the back of my head and I can feel her breath on my ear. It tingles something inside of me, a blossom of warmth in my chest, and I bring her closer, lips pressed against her hair.

I see green lights behind my eyelids.


	7. Chapter 7

**_|Jade|_ **

Tori's mother talks to me all through dinner. What am I going to do when I graduate? What's my favorite subject? What kind of music do I listen to? And the more she talks, all friendly and open, like she actually gives a shit, the easier it becomes to answer her. Even Trina is pretty decent throughout the meal. Tori smiles at me from across the table, her fork buried in her spaghetti, and I give her a mirroring expression before returning my attention to her mom. She's a kind lady, genuine and sweet, just like her daughter.

Internally, I smirk to myself. Who would have thought that I would think such nice things about Tori Vega?

After dinner, I thank both of Tori's parents graciously for letting me stay and feeding me before following Tori up the stairs to her bedroom. She's giggling as she shoulders into the room and I nail her side with my elbow as I shut the door behind me. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." Tori answers too quickly, falling on her bed. She pulls her backpack between her legs and unzips it, yanking out a few books. "You're just cute. That's all."

I stick my tongue out at her. Sitting beside her, I kick the backpack out of her way. When she turns to retort at me, I lift a hand. "No homework. It's only Saturday night. You can do that tomorrow when I go home."

A flicker of something akin to realization takes over Tori's face. She lowers one book, meeting my eyes like she's surprised at something I just said. My eyebrows quirk at her, a silent question, and she finally gives a nervous laugh and shakes her head. "I forgot. You have to leave tomorrow."

I look down at my knees. "Yeah. School Monday. The real world."

Her hand lands on my thigh. It's hot, her thumb swiping back and forth across the denim of her jeans that I'm wearing. "I don't want you to."

When I look up at her, she's blushing, her words tumbling out of her at an unbelievable speed. "I mean this weekend has just been so nice and I've finally had time to see the real you, you know, and I just, it sucks that it was under these circumstances and that it has to end because I've been having so much fun with you and I'm sorry this probably sounds really creepy I just, you know, I'm glad we're friends -"

"Jesus, Vega." I lift a hand, my fingertip booping the tip of her nose. "Take a breath before you hurt yourself."

She obeys, taking a deep breath and moving her hand back to her own lap. I stare at it for a moment before finding her gaze again.

"I don't want to go home, either," I tell her, my voice soft, almost whispering. "This has been like ... a safe place for me."

"It always will be." Tori's hand snaps to mine. She grips it tightly. "I mean, you can come over whenever you want. We're friends now. You can talk to me about anything."

"I know. Thanks."

"Oh, Jade -"

"Do not cry, I swear to god."

"I'm not crying."

"Yeah. Sure."

Tori puts her iPod on her dock and puts the songs on shuffle. For a while we just talk and mundane things - school, homework, and I'm aware of how easy this is, being friends with her. Before this, back when she first arrived at Hollywood Arts, I was so ... I don't know. Not jealous, not exactly, just ... intimidated. She's talented. I'm not stupid. She sings like a rockstar and isn't too bad at acting, either. And, frankly, she's gorgeous. I watch her as she paints her toenails. Whereas I've got a complexion complimentary of Casper, she's got this glossy bronze skin like beach sand and a smile that almost literally glows. She smells like summer. I didn't look at anyone as competition before she showed up, but Tori's a challenge, an obstacle.

After my parents got divorced, I tried not to put my faith in people. I didn't make close friends, I didn't reach out or speak up. Beck was my exception to that rule. He's smart and nice and he saw something in me that I didn't and I let him in. Even now, I don't regret that decision, because I know if I hadn't spent the past two and a half years at his side, I might have never experienced happiness again. Beck refused to let me sink or cage myself and maybe that's backfired, now, because I let him see the tender parts of me and he ended up stabbing me there.

Tori sees something in me, too, something worth saving, fixing - if she didn't, she would have turned away from me a long time ago. She never once stopped trying to be my friend, she's never turned me down when I came to her for help. That's significant. At first I thought it meant that Tori was stupid, but now it just makes her nice.

The room smells thick of nail polish. After some begging on her part, I let her paint mine purple. The space of her bedroom is full of music and laughter and Tori smiling - always, constantly. To her, there is always something to smile about. The glass is half full. The sun is always behind the rain clouds. It's not a state of mind I'm used to being around, let alone having, but with her this close, it's like living in the eye of the storm. The rest of the world is out there, just out of reach, with its damage and carnage tearing shit up, but I'm here with Tori and I'm safe.

We watch another movie. This time, we actually pay attention, sitting on her bedroom floor with our backs against her bed. Her head falls on my shoulder, knees drawn up, and I can smell her shampoo in her hair. It's the same one I used this morning. It feels like ages since then - standing in the too-hot water until my skin burned red, crying at the bottom of Tori's bathtub. It's embarrassing in retrospect, and though it must have been obvious that I was a total wreck, Tori still treated me well. I've lived my life convinced that everyone has ulterior motives for everything, that people are greedy and selfish because it's a part of human nature. And while that's true for some people - maybe even most of them - Tori's not. She's never been, as much as I would have liked her to be when she first arrived at Hollywood Arts. It's much easier to hate someone than it is to like them.

I lean my head on top of hers and let out a slow sigh. She's worked her way under my skin and maybe that's dangerous or naive, but after this weekend, I can't really complain.

The sound of my ringtone startles both of us. My phone is still in the pants I wore when I got here the day previous (had it really only been a day?). I detach myself from Tori's limbs, which had somehow made their way around my waist, and crawl across the floor. I pluck the phone from my pants pocket. One text message. I open it with the push of a button.

My heart slams against the back of my tongue.

Are you okay?

"What's wrong?"

I don't look away from the screen of my phone, lowering it slowly to my lap. Do I answer? What does he care? How does he even have the nerve to ask me that? What kind of stupid question is that, anyway? He breaks up with me after two and a half seemingly happy years and, what? He expects me to be recovered after twenty-four hours?

I chuck the phone across the carpet. "Asshole."

I was doing so well. I was feeling so much better, so confident and in control, and he had to go and fuck it all up with his goddamn sincerity and genuine concern for me. I push my fingers through my hair and close my eyes, forcing the tears back into my skull as if to drown everything out. When warm fingertips graze over my arm, I shift away, giving a slight shake of my head. Tori backs off, the movie still playing beyond us, and we sit there for a time without talking and I'm happy for the silence. I don't want to be badgered with questions.

I want to hate Beck. Like I said, hating people is much easier than liking, let alone loving them. I want to want to punch him the next time I see him, or cuss him out, or send him the angriest text I can come up with. I wish I could do that and feel like it was something I should be doing, something I would do, but it's not. Not to Beck, because I love him. I've loved him for a long time and maybe it's the teenage fucked up hormones talking, but I feel like I'll always love him. That's what I always planned on - Beck and I, starring in movies together or becoming singers and going on tour together, getting married and popping out a few kids, all because he made me happier than anyone else. Forever was an option with him. He wiped away the pain of my parents' divorce and in general neglect of my existence and replaced it with a heart that worked like a normal human being, which I was convinced I was not for the longest time. He made me feel things again. He loved - loves? - me despite everything.

Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes and search for my phone. Dragging it back to me, my fingers hover above the keys. I think about punching in the words fuck off. It would make me feel a hell of a lot better because I know that my red hot anger has always hurt him worse than anything else. He hates knowing that he's pissed me off, even more so when he knows he's really hurt me, and I could exploit this to my full advantage until he feels more guilty than he ever has in his entire life. A part of me wants to do just that because maybe that would drive him to take me back, to kiss me like he did on the curb outside of the coffee shop and remember just how much he's always wanted - needed - me.

I glance up at Tori. Her eyes are on the TV but I can tell she's not paying attention. Her profile is gentle, soft. I want to touch her face, bring it to mine, like some of her inner peace will transfer from her skin into me. And when I look at her I feel the other part of me, what I want to be the stronger part, refusing to cave in. I have to be strong. I can't fall apart after Tori has already done so much to make sure I don't.  
I run my thumb over the buttons, take a deep breath, and finally type out I'm with Tori. I'm fine.

I'm not lying. I am fine because I'm with her, because she took me in and let me be broken. She had every right to laugh in my face. Had the roles been reversed, I might have done just that, because I'm a bitter, sour human being.

But she didn't. She cradled me as I cried in her bed and she held my hand at the coffee shop and hugged me. All because she wanted to. All because she likes me.

I send the message and slip back to Tori's side. I feel better, much better than I would have had I sent an angry text instead of an honest one. Before Tori can ask, I say, "He asked if I was all right. I told him I was with you."

There's a moment of silence. Tori's watching me from the corner of her eye. "And that means?"

I look at her, giving her a smile that I don't have to force or exaggerate. "That I'm fine. And I will be fine. As long as you're -" I shake my head before letting it fall back against her mattress. "You are destroying my rough and tough reputation, Vega."

"As long as I'm here," she finishes for me, clapping a hand on my knee. "Which I will be. You are stuck with me for life."

I twirl an unenthusiastic finger in the air to celebrate, Tori giving my leg a firm slap before her hands dive into my sides. I fall over with laughter, Tori's limbs crawling over me until she's saddled across my waist. Her fingers dig under my ribs and drive embarrassing noises out of me. She's laughing, too, and through my gasps I make half-hearted threats at her that include tearing off her limbs and/or me killing her. Nothing serious, you know.

My hands find her hips. I hold them tightly, rolling sideways and forcing her on her back. Crushing myself between her legs, I find her criminal hands and lock my fingers around the wrists, shoving them into the carpet above her head. Tori's still laughing, biting her tongue as she looks up at me, expression smug.

"Jade West is ticklish. That's interesting information."

I lower my face closer to hers. "Like you aren't." Releasing one of her hands, my fingers collide into her stomach. She squeals, hips bucking upward, and I'm suddenly aware of the position we're in, how close we are, and how pretty Tori looks when she's flushed with laughter.

I swallow, the slight shake of my head knocking the sudden thoughts away. I've never had a friend before, a real one, one that's a girl. It'll take some adjustment, that's all. All of these sappy thoughts and feelings are just going to have to be assessed one at a time. I peel away from her, crossing my arms and perking a studded eyebrow. "So, now we both know our weaknesses."

Tori pushes herself on her elbows. Her dark hair tumbles behind her. There's a degree of nervousness in her eyes, almost hesitance, as her eyes skitter across my legs and torso before steadying on my eyes. I almost question her but decide that maybe she's struggling to understand this whole friendship concept, too. I mean, she obviously has other friends and is much more accustomed to this kind of thing than I am, but maybe she's never had a friend like me? I am a bit of a oddity.

"We're totally missing the movie," she says, making a face at me and sitting at my side. For a few minutes, there's a distance between us - a wrist-span, but enough for me to notice. I'm almost afraid to close it and bothered when I realize how much I want to. Is this how friendships work between teenage girls? To hell if I know.

Eventually, I scoot closer to her, if just to make myself feel better. Her head falls on my shoulder again and my arm tucks around her waist. I like being close to her and I'm not going to deprive myself of that just because I don't understand what it means.

My eyes fall to the top of her head. Besides, who doesn't like a good mystery?


	8. Chapter 8

|Tori|

Jade falls asleep before I do. She's facing me with her lips slightly parted in a tiny 'o' shape with her hair spiraling upward across the pillow. Her hands are pressed together and shoved beneath her head, cradling it, and I can hear the soft sound of her exhales as I watch the side of her torso rise and fall.

We were up talking for a long time. The red numbers on the bedside table behind her tell me it's nearly two in the morning. She drifted off somewhere around fifteen minutes ago, but up until then, we had spent the majority of the evening hours exhaling secrets across my sheets. Her eyes were a dim green and heavily lidded, words soft and she even giggled a few times. It was a private moment and now that it's passed and she's fast asleep, I kind of can't believe it actually happened, that the ice queen melted just for me.

Without thinking too much about it, I extend one hand and brush a loop of black hair off of her forehead. My fingertips linger on her warm skin a moment too long and I jerk it back almost violently. I bury my hand under the blankets and twist so my back is to her, staring at the wall on the other side of the room.

Something is swelling in my chest. Something dangerous, I'm sure.

I don't notice I'm chewing my lip until the sharp, metallic taste of blood soaks on my tongue. Grinding my teeth, I press my face into my pillow.

I've had plenty of friends my whole life. I don't say it to honk my own horn, but people have always seemed to like me. I know what it feels like to have friendship - warm and comforting and sweet, like what I've built with Cat and Andre. I like spending time with them, they make me happy, and I know I can trust them and rely on them whenever I need to.

I also know what it feels like when I have a crush.

Turning my head to the left, I peek out at the sleeping Jade next to me. Her lips have closed. I can see the balls of her eyes flickering back and forth beneath the lids. Jade always has these stern lines to her expression, even when she's smiling, but in sleep, everything is smoothed out and relaxed. I wonder what she dreams about, if it's of Beck, or what stars in her nightmares - maybe that's Beck, too.

My eyebrows screw over my nose. I do not have a crush on Jade, I tell myself firmly before promptly shoving my face back into my pillow. I'm just overwhelmed with ... feelings. This wouldn't be the first time that I mistook friendly emotions as something more. When I first transferred to Hollywood Arts and I started hanging out with Andre, I thought I might have liked him more than a friend. It took me a while to understand that it was just because he was my first real friend at the new school and we got along so well. Now I couldn't possibly imagine being Andre's girlfriend - our friendship means too much to me and I'm not his type of girl. This is the same thing - Jade is finally being kind to me, we've finally established something not based on contempt. I'm just looking into it way too much, that's all.

Nodding to myself, I close my eyes and relax. No crushes here, just friends. With Jade. That's all. Not complicated and totally platonic.

Convinced, I fall asleep, and I dream of green eyes and red stoplights.

The sun crawls over the sky and chases the night away. I wake up when my arm sweeps across the other side of the mattress and I don't feel a body. My eyes snap open almost immediately, just like they did the morning before when Jade wasn't in my bed. Rational thought swims slowly back to me. I remember that she had risen early to shower and that she was probably doing so right now. Blinking, I bring my fists to my eyes and rub them, shifting myself into a sitting position. It's then that a voice filtering in from my opened door. I dismiss it as Trina's before I start listening more closely, frowning somewhat as I detect a sleepy tone that is undeniably Jade's.

Muffling a yawn behind my hand, I lean across the bed and try to pick up what she's saying. I know right away that she's mad - she has that sharp edge to her voice that she used to use on me. I frown, cupping one hand around my ear.

"No, will you just - okay, why is it that you suddenly care where I am? I'veleft the house without saying anything a thousand times before." Pause. "Oh, you're my mother now?" Pause. A humorless, dry puff of laughter. "Look, I'm eighteen, I don't have to tell you where I am." A longer pause this time, and then, "No," she says softly. "I'm not with Beck." Pause. "Tori's. A friend of mine. You haven't met her." Pause. "Mom, I'll be home later. Tonight." Her voice is softer now, choked. "I'm fine." Pause. "I'm not hanging out with Beck today. We - he broke up with me, Mom. Just - " She takes a deep breath. "Just let me stay here with Tori until dinner, okay? She's helping me." Pause. "Okay." She doesn't say goodbye, but I hear her slide the phone closed. She stays out there for nearly a minute longer and I can imagine either her hand twisted in her hair or her thumb between her teeth.

Kicking back my comforter, I crawl out of my bed and jog to the door, tearing it open. Jade jumps, leaning on the other side of the hallway, eyes rimmed with red.

"Hey," I whisper, not sure why, before I reach across and pull her into my chest. She molds against me, arms snaking around my neck just short of choking pressure. My hand smooths down her hair. "Hey, it's all right."

"Jesus, Tori." She takes a breath and lets it out, my hair pattering with her broken exhale. "I can't even handle talking to my mom on the phone - how am I going to handle school tomorrow? The rest of the week?"

"I'll be there to help you, remember?"

She shakes her head into my neck. "Beck is going to be there. I'm going to have to look him in the eye and pretend that I'm okay." Her grip on me tightens. "I don't understand. Why? Why? His reason doesn't make shit sense!" Her voice shakes, arms quiver, legs trembling as they knock against mine. "What did I do? What did I do?"

I take hold of her face and force her back so our eyes meet. Bringing her forehead to mine, I keep my voice level and stern. "Listen to me. You didn't do anything. Beck is making a huge mistake. Jade -" She had flicked her eyes down. I wait until she looks at me again, lips pressed together. "He will regret this, I promise you. You are an incredible girl." Her eyes roll, but they quickly find mine again. "You're smart and funny and talented and sweet, even though you'd die before admitting it." I give her a smile that she weakly reciprocates, but it's something. "You're beautiful," I whisper, and maybe it's too intimate, maybe it's too much, but it's true, and I watch her chest swell. "I don't understand his reason any more than you do, but regardless, this is not. Your. Fault. Okay?"

Jade blinks slowly, takes another shaky breath, and then she nods between my hands. I relax my hold on her and smooth her hair away, crushing her in another hug. She searches for my cheek and kisses me there, soft thank yous feathering my skin. Another kiss follows, closer to my chin, and then her face is in front of mine again, one hand pressing against the other side of my jaw, and her lips press just briefly on top of mine.

It's not so much a kiss as it is a slight whisper of her mouth brushing over my own, but it's enough to shock me to the spot, blinking at the hallway wall when she buries her face in my neck again. I take a deep breath of my own before rubbing Jade's back, eyes closing. She's emotional. She's broken. She doesn't know how to react to this kind of kindness - the only one who ever showed it to her was Beck. I rock her to and fro for a few moments before she eventually detaches, wiping her thumb beneath one eye.

"I'm going to take a shower, okay?" She smiles vaguely, squeezing my arm before she drifts down the hall and shoulders into the bathroom. I stand there for a little while longer, leaning against the wall, my fingertips trailing over my suddenly tingly lips.

"The hell was that about?"

I nearly fall into the door. I grip the wall, whipping around to narrow my eyes at my sister. She's already showered, hair rolled in a towel on top of her head. She's in shorts and a tank-top, one hand on the cocked side of her hips. I narrow my eyes at her, wondering just how much she had seen and what part she was talking about.

"Go back to admiring yourself in the mirror, Trina," I spit viciously, moving into my room. I swing the door behind me but when I don't hear it click shut, I turn to see Trina with her foot kicking it open again. She stands in the threshold of my room, dumping her hair over her face and wringing the towel through it. "Excuse you," I grunt.

"Excuse me," she says back, peeking at me through the gaps of her wet hair. "I asked you a question."

"What?"

She nods in the general direction of the bathroom. "You and the freaky one."

"Her name is Jade." The sudden angry urge to defend her burns in my face. I swallow hard. "And she's not freaky."

Trina eyes me suspiciously before standing straight again. "Whatever. Jade, then."

"Her boyfriend broke up with her. She's a little emotional right now."

"Not that." Trina runs her fingers through her hair. "I knew that already. It's all over The Slap."

I blink. I haven't checked that since Friday morning. I haven't updated my status once. It hadn't even occurred to me to do anything but spend time with Jade since she got here. "Is it bad stuff?"

Trina shrugs. "Beck changed his relationship status which, you know, changed hers, too, and there's the usual stuff. People disliking it, some of them liking it to be jerks, Sinjin offering his 'services of comfort' on Jade's page." Trina grins. "I think I might extend my services of comfort to Beck now that he's single. That boy is one hot piece of -"

"Don't." I raise a hand to shut her up, sitting on the edge of my bed. "Well, if you already knew about it, what were you asking about?"

Trina's eyebrows raise, jerking a thumb over her shoulder to indicate the hallway outside of my room. "You and her making out out there is what I was asking about. I mean, I know there's always a rebound but I didn't think the freak - sorry, Jade, was into girls."

My face has drained of color and turned red all in the span of ten seconds. I shake my head. "We were not making out, number one, and number two, I am not Jade's rebound."

Trina does not look the least bit convinced. "Her face was on your face and you were locked in a lover's embrace. I'm not stupid."

"I beg to differ."

"I graduated, thank you very much, and I also have eyeballs that operate perfectly well and are a beautiful shade of brown." She sways toward my dresser, snatching up one of my brushes and yanking it through her damp tangles of hair. "Well, whatever you were doing, it was a little affectionate for just comforting a broken heart."

"She's hurt." I cross my arms defiantly, meeting my sister's gaze in the mirror. "She doesn't have many friends."

"That's probably because she looks like she's about to breathe fire at any given moment -"

"And she needs me." I stand up, moving to stand beside her, meeting her eyes again. "Please, Trina, just leave it alone, okay? Things suck for her right now and she doesn't need a rumor like that making things worse."

Trina drops my brush before rolling her eyes. "It's not like I talk to anyone at that school anymore. I'm in college now."

"You're at a night school for cosmetology."

Narrowing her eyes, my sister pats the top of my head. "It's a pointless plan B that I won't need a month from now when I'm on television."

"Promise me, Treen."

She waves a hand and turns to saunter out of my room. "Yeah, yeah. Won't say a word."

As soon as she's gone, I fall back on my mattress, pressing my fists into my eyes. For Jade's sake, I have to keep my feelings in check. She's going through more than enough right now and I'm just a friend. Someone to help her, not confuse her further. Because I'd be lying if I said I wasn't developing something for her that may or may not have already been in place before all of this - I mean, I always thought of her as really pretty, beautiful, even, but now that she's an actual person to me with real feelings and a heart - I press my fists deeper into my eye sockets. It's almost made her an option in my mind, which is just twisted because one, we just got to be friends literally a day ago and two, she has just been broken up with by another one of my friends.

It's just that it's happening so fast, I tell myself, nodding into my hands. In a day or two I'll look at Jade the same way I look at Andre and Cat. Nothing more than a close friend.

"You're not going to sleep again, are you?"

I pull my hands away. Jade's in a towel - only a towel, hair dripping down her shoulders. She smiles at me, making her way across the room and kneeling in front of her backpack. She yanks out a pair of pants and a shirt, looking over her shoulder. She's clearly hesitating, eyes flicking from the floor to her clothes to me before she speaks again.

"Is it okay if I dress in here?"

My mouth falls open. I snap it shut. "Of course," I say too loudly, casually rolling on my stomach and reaching to the floor to pull up a magazine. "Go ahead."

She keeps the towel around her back until her panties are on, then drops it to the floor. Her back is to me and I allow myself a few respectful peaks at her as she hooks her bra over her head and pulls it over her chest. She's pale all over and soft, long legs, slender arms. I swallow as she shimmies her jeans up and then tears down her shirt, ripping my eyes back to the magazine just as she turns around.

The bed sinks beneath her weight as she relaxes beside me. Her hand slaps the magazine away. "This is my last day before I have to go through the tough shit. We've gotta make this day special."

I grin despite myself, folding the magazine and pushing it across the bed. I look at her and she's smiling, genuinely happy to be here with me, knowing that it's going to be really hard after today, but at least she has this right now. I push my thoughts aside and look at her like the friend she's turned into.

"I've got an idea."

She laughs, bites her lower lip, and there's something in her eyes I wish I could ignore.


	9. Chapter 9

**_|Jade|_ **

"Really?"

Tori looks genuinely hurt by my tone. She turns over her shoulder. Beyond her is a kaleidoscope of color, the street filled with sound and swallowed by hot, yellow rays of sun. The peaked tips of tents are in the distance, loud trumpets blaring from somewhere, and there's the distinct smell of animal waste from a petting zoo nearby.

"It's the Jolly Days Festival!" Tori's arms swing out with her exclamation, indicating the entire field of people and noise and smell like it's some grand piece of artwork. I raise an incredulous brow at her. Her arms slap to her sides. She's wearing a pink tanktop beneath a white half-jacket that burns my eyes against the brightness of the background. "I used to come to this every year when I was a kid."

"Precisely, because you're supposed to grow up like the rest of us. Jolly Days is for children, Tori."

Her lower lip pumps over her upper. "There's a bunch of fun stuff to do here. They've got Henna tattoos and the petting zoo, a comedian playing at four, we can take a ride in freaking hot air balloon. How are you not excited?"

I let out a rough sigh, flicking my eyes behind her. The last time I attended Jolly Days, I was about six years old. I remember my father not wanting to pet any of the goats or llamas in the petting zoo because he didn't like the way they smelled, but he did accompany me riding on top of a camel. My mom was a lot more of a free spirit back then - we got butterflies painted on our faces and ate so much cotton candy my stomach was sore. Bitter, I narrow my gaze at the happily screaming children walking around us, the bright faces of their parents, and I wonder for just how many of them was it a temporary heaven.

"We can leave if you want." Tori's embarrassed. Her head is down, brown hair trickling to cover her face. "It was a stupid idea, I just thought -"

"No." I step forward. It's almost engraving itself as an instinct in my mind to touch her when it was the complete opposite not a week before. My arm hooks around her elbow and tugs her forward. "You have to remember that I am a cranky old witch trapped in this young body of mine. I've forgotten how to have fun."

Brown eyes meet mine carefully. Her lips part, close, and then reopen with a deep breath meant to gain confidence, I figure. "Is it okay to ask what you and Beck did for fun?"

The question catches me surprised, blinking at her. My arm drops from her shoulders, eyes turning back to the crowd. I move ahead of her, expecting her to follow and not looking back to make sure she does. We approach the ticket booth and buy a bracelet for each of us, keeping silent until the neon green plastic is stuck about our wrists. As we move toward the innards of the festival, I finally answer her. "We went out, sometimes. To eat and stuff. Movies, concerts. Typical stuff. Certainly never took me to Jolly Days." I smile down at her to assure her I don't think less of her choice. It's just not at all what I'm used to. When it comes to Tori, I'm discovering that a lot of what she does is not what I am used to. "Most of the time we were just together, in his trailer or at my house. We, you know, watched movies, did ... other stuff."

"R-rated stuff?"

I glance at her, not sure how to approach this subject with her yet. I haven't really discussed it with anyone other than Beck. I almost feel embarrassed, swallowing and forcing the coming blush away before I look like a pansy. "Yes," I decide eventually. "R-Rated stuff."

To my surprise, talking about it - about him - doesn't hurt as much as it did even this morning. Maybe it's the cheerful music and the sunny grass, the belting of goats to our right. Tori steers us toward them, bending at the knees to move her hand through the gaps in the wire fence. A goat nibbles at her bare palm. Maybe it's her, I think absently, watching her make kissy-noises at the goat. Maybe she's why it doesn't hurt so bad.

"What about you, then?"

Tori doesn't look up. "What?"

I kneel beside her, making a face at the goat as it presses its nose through the square holes in search for anything edible I might have. I shrink away from it. "You know. R-Rated stuff. Is that in your history?"

I watch her face. It grows darker with a blush she tries to cover with the back of her hand, but I'm much better at it than she is. I laugh, nudging her shoulder with mine.

"C'mon," I bother. "Spill it."

"I've done ... stuff." Tori stands, keeping her face out of view. "Steven and I were ... physical. He liked me without my shirt on. In fact, I'm sure he preferred me without my shirt on." Tori shrugs, arms crossing. "Still a, uh, you know. Yeah."

"Virgin."

Tori's eyes blow open. She laughs, colliding into my side while grabbing my elbow, yanking me away. "There were kids right there, Jade."

"So?" I have long since lost my ability to give a single shit about some child's fragile psyche. I was a damaged good and I turned out okay. For the most part. Depending on who you ask. "You're a virgin."

Her fist lands surprisingly hard into my arm. "Shut up."

I laugh. It's cute how embarrassed she is. She's so modest, which is something I really have never been. "Why haven't you given it up? I highly doubt you haven't been given the opportunity."

Her shoulders shrug again, hand slipping from my elbow to dive across her chest in a defensive manner. "I haven't found the right person yet." Her eyes slide from the ground to settle on my own. We stand there for a moment, pointedly staring at each other, and my heart responds to her words without the consent of my conscious mind. I'm imaging her trembling and nervous and eager beneath the body of some random boy. I can see her kissing him with the same gentleness she uses when she hugs me, roaming her hands down his back, hooking her legs around his waist and drawing him closer. She comes off so pure, like she couldn't possibly be in such an erotic situation, but beneath that soft smile of hers is the dark smirk I've glimpsed, and the way her hips grind in some of the songs she performs suggests that she has an idea what she would want. I imagine her naked and my breath catches in my chest.

Tori clears her throat. She steps away first and I follow at her side without saying anything. The moment hangs behind us, thick and heavy, and the farther we walk away from it, the more emphasis there is on not bringing it up again. We don't vocalize it, but it's said nonetheless. I try not to think about it - the way she looked at me, what my imagination was conjuring up on its own - and as we move through the festival, it becomes easier to do so. We get Henna tattoos on our arms, intricate swirls with dots and hearts and circles, solidified with gold glitter. We stop to watch a group of shoeless women clip their tambourines against their hips. There are little tents with custom made jewelry lining the aisles in the field. I'm distracted by the smell of incense, pretzels, hot dogs. I'm distracted by a comedian who makes Tori laugh until she cries, falling against my shoulder in a fit of tears. I'm distracted by the world floating beneath us as Tori and I climb into a hot air balloon and billow into the sky, tethered by a long rope. Las Vegas unfolds beneath us, small and fragile-looking, like I could swipe my thumb across it and crush it to dust. But even all of that, all of those sights and sounds and smells and Tori laughing - it's not enough to make me forget about the way she looked at me when she said she hadn't found the right person.

Who was - who could be - her right person?

The sky starts to swell with darkness. We make our way with sore feet back to her car and drive in relative silence back to her house. I eye my car, parked parallel to Tori's house, with contempt. I have to go home now. I have to leave Tori's house, which has felt more like a home to me than mine ever has. Tori frowns at it as well as we make our way inside and up the stairs to her room. The silence is weird, filled with things we're not sure how to say. I want to thank her again but don't know how to word it, and I want to ask her questions about what she meant back there at the festival, and I want to stay another night and another night and pretend that the rest of the week isn't coming.

But it is, and I don't say anything, and she sits on the edge of her bed as I pack my stuff. She follows me downstairs and to the front door. Her parents, sitting on the couch in front of a movie, smile warmly and tell me what a sweet girl I am. I think I smile in return, but I'm so focused on dreading the ride home, the rest of the night, that I don't say much back. Tori walks beside me to my car where I throw my bags into the backseat before lingering by the driver's side door, fingering my keys.

When I look to her, her eyes are on her shoes. I swallow and take a step forward, taking a long breath in. "Thank you."

I watch her lips curve. "No problem. Anytime."

Our eyes meet, brown into green, and if people could emit colors, a hazel mist would be forming between us. I shift on my feet for a minute before mumbling, "Do we hug now?"

Tori laughs, clear and soft, before giving an enthusiastic nod and bending her arms around my neck. My own wind about her waist, pulling her close until our bodies are flush together. I breathe in her shampoo, the smell of her bedroom, the distinct scent of Tori that I've only now started to notice. After this, everything will go down. Everything will be harder. Everything is going to hurt a thousand times worse.

"I told you I'd protect you tomorrow. I meant it." Her words are muffled into my neck. I blink up at the sky. Almost without thinking of it, I'm squeezing her tighter, closing my eyes against her hair, wanting nothing more than to either remain like that or to go back up to her room and not leave.

But we pull away, and I climb into my car and start it and lift my fingers toward her as I pull away. She stands at the curb until I turn the corner, watching her in my rear view mirror until I can't anymore, and the sudden silence - the solitude of my car and the night and the street, passing through green lights - it all slams onto me before I can stop it, before I can even think of stopping it. The street and sky blurs with my tears until I can't see anything but blobs of color. Somehow I make it to my house without crashing. My mom isn't there which really doesn't surprise me, even though she threw a fit earlier about me not coming home. She'll play that game - the worried mother bird only to fly off as soon as the baby wakes up.

My house has always just been this building that I sleep in and not much of a home. When Beck and I were together - the thought makes my stomach twist. I put a hand over it, breathing in deep and slow. When Beck and I were together (because we're not anymore oh God), he tried to make this house warm and welcoming. He helped me decorate for holidays. Since his trailer is so small and my house is so often unoccupied, we spent a lot of time here. I can't be in a single room, look at any piece of furniture, touch or smell anything without remembering something about him. The time he and I chased each other through the house spraying silly string at each other, when he serenaded me in the downstairs bathroom while I showered, the countless times he cradled me on top of his chest on the couch watching TV and my heart stings with each pulse and all I can think is what went wrong? What happened? What didn't he feel anymore?

I kick off my shoes at the door, sniffling, tears already staining either side of my face. I drop my bags and leave them there, only keeping my cellphone on me. I rummage through the fridge (which Beck pinned me to once and kissed me out of an argument we were having) and come up with a yogurt and some grapes which I carry in my arms down the stairs to my room (which is so full of him I can barely breathe).

The basement is mine. Mom never comes down here since I all but forced her to take the washer and dryer upstairs so I could have the entire lower level of the house to myself. Not surprising, the theme is a mash of dark purples and blacks and thick greens. Various shelves and dresser tops hold the strange things I have collected since I was a kid; lots of fossils, skeletons I've found and cleaned, jars of questionable substances, a glass frame with dead insects meshed inside. The carpet is lush, my bed is huge, and there's a flat-screen TV I never use as well as a desktop that goes mostly neglected.

My eyes linger on the computer, actually, when it occurs to me that I haven't checked my email or The Slap since before I went to Tori's. I bite my lip. I know what I'll see - changed relationship status, people sending me frowney faces, etc. Cat had texted me earlier this morning but I had ignored her; I would bet money she left an overly fluffy message on my Slap profile.

I know if I look, I'll only feel worse, but something sick in me dares me to, just to see if I could handle it. I swallow as I sit on the chair, turning the computer on with a slow hum. The screen beams to life. I open The Slap and hold my breath as I sign in.

Thirty-one notifications. As I suspected, one is a message from Cat - lots of crying faces and hearts and rainbows, as well as 'virtual hugs'. One from Sinjin trying to be my rebound. The rest, though, are all likes and dislikes on the first, bolded thing on my profile.

Jade West is single.

My breath catches. I feel like I'm going to be sick again, furiously clicking out of the browser and shoving away from my computer. I can't eat, so I just curl up on my bed and take slow, even breaths.

I must doze off because when my phone starts vibrating it startles me. I grope blindly for it, answering it before I look to see who's calling. "Hrm?"

"Sorry, did I wake you up?"

A loud thud alarms me of the presence of my heart. "What do you want?"

"Jade -"

"Don't call me." I say it with viciousness, intending to hang up right away, but I can't bring myself to move.

"I just wanted to see if you were okay." There's a brief pause. "Are you?"

"Never better."

"Jade, please. This is hard for me, too."

"Is it?" I sit up, my free hand curling tightly around the blankets of my bed. "Really, Beck? You broke up with me. You left me. Not the other way around. I'm the one who is supposed to have a mental breakdown and feel like shit about it, not you. You did this, so don't give me that bullshit."

We're fighting. I'm mad. But hearing his voice, knowing that it's him, soothes me somehow, like water on a burn. It's not long-lasting but it's temporary relief that I cling to, unable to hang up, unable to tell him to fuck off or leave me alone or to never talk to me again.

Beck's breath rustles the receiver. "I care about you. I will always care about you."

"Fuck you." There's no venom in it. I'm crying. My voice is trembling and weak. "Fuck you."

"I know you're going to be mad at me for a long time. I don't blame you. I just - Jesus, Jade, we were together for two years. We can't just not talk to each other."

"It's been two days."

Another breath. "I miss you."

This is what I wanted. Him to realize just how much he loves me. It starts off with missing me, wanting to call me, to talk to me, and then it snowballs into wanting to be around me, touching me, kissing me, being with me again. I suck in a breath. "So, what do you want, Beck?"

"Tomorrow's going to be rough. For both of us," he emphasizes. "I just want you to know that this doesn't have to be like everyone else's break up. We don't have to avoid each other. You can talk to me. You can sit with me at lunch."

"Oh, thank you for the permission, sir," I snarl, my voice sharp. "It might be a surprise to you, but I don't need to be around you to function." It might be a lie - I'm not entirely sure yet - but I say it anyway. "I have friends. I have Tori."

The last sentence is almost shouted, my voice firm, even though the rest of me is quivering.

There's silence. Finally, he says, "I'm sorry."

I blink. Tears fall over. "I know. Bye." I hang up and drop my phone on the mattress before crawling under my covers, still in my jeans, still hungry, and not caring. A few minutes later my phone vibrates again and I consider ignoring it, figuring it to be Beck, but my curiosity gets the best of me and I snake my hand across the blankets and squint at the screen.

A text message. From Tori.

A fluttering in my chest chases the pain away. I open the text. The two words are more than the water Beck was to my burns. It's medicine. It's a promise for a cure.

I turn my phone off and lay in bed, closing my eyes; one word projected on each eyelid.

I'm here.


	10. Chapter 10

**_|Tori|_ **

I don't realize just how long I've been staring at Jade's locker until my eyes start to burn. I huff, turning away, glaring at the clock on the wall. Class starts in ten minutes. She's usually here before me, but the chittering crowd lacks a particular dark-haired girl. My shoe raps against the floor, shoving things in my locker to make it look as if I'm searching for something. My eyes, though, are still jerking toward the doors and Jade's locker.

"Tori!"

I flinch, whirling on my heel. Andre, braids pulled back above his head and that seemingly permanent smile on his face, saunters to my side. I relax, giving him a smile of my own while checking over my shoulder at the doors. Still no Jade. I haven't seen Beck yet, either, but I'm not concerned about him. I'm about to ask Andre if he's seen her when he blurts out, "You heard about Beck and Jade, right?"

I pause. Do I tell? Is that something I'm supposed to talk about? I chew my cheek for a minute, jerking a nod to Andre to make sure he knows I'm listening, even though my thoughts are far off. Somehow I don't think Jade would appreciate my revealing of her soft side. To be honest, the whole past two days feels like some dream I floated through. I woke up this morning confused, searching the other side of my bed blindly like I expected to find Jade there. Her absence had jolted me awake nearly an hour before my alarm. I sent her another text before I left for school, telling her that she could do this, but she never replied. I shift my hand toward my chin and chew on my thumb knuckle, eyes falling toward the doors again.

"It's crazy," Andre says, leaning at my side. "I never thought they'd break up. They've been together for such a long time."

"Yeah." I turn back to Andre, hands hovering mid-air for a moment before they drop. "Did - Did Beck talk to you at all, about anything?"

Andre shrugs, his phone in one hand being tackled by his thumb. "A little. I asked if he was doing okay and he said he was fine, just worried about Jade. He said he didn't think she'd take it this hard." His dark brows knit together before his eyes shift up to mine. "Actually, yeah, he said she was with you."

My mouth opens and closes with no sound. I trust Andre, he's my best friend, but I don't know if this is something I'm supposed to be free and open about. Jade just became my actual friend. I don't want to ruin it by giving away too much. "Er, yeah, she came over. She just, you know, needed someone to talk to."

Andre nods, not pressing any further - not that he has to chance, because a flash of red blinds both of us and in a wave of bubblegum perfume is Cat, her hands gripping my arm. I try to focus on the pent-up ball of energy, but she's practically leaping into the air on the tips of her toes.

"Where is she?" Cat's eyebrows are furrowed in worry. Her grip tightens on my arm. "Where's Jade? Is she okay? She never answered my texts!"

The hand not currently in a death grip raises and settles on Cat's shoulder. "Calm down, Cat. She's fine. She's just ... late, I guess."

Cat's teeth shove into her lip. "Poor Jade! I can't believe this hap - Jade!"

She bursts past me so fast I can't stop her, falling back against my locker. Throat tight, I spin toward the door. She's there, shouldering her backpack, dressed in her traditional dark colors, eyes widening on the great wall of Cat that's wailing down on her. I run without thinking about it, trying to reach Cat before her arms choke Jade to death, but I'm too late. Jade reels backward, keeping her balance by planting one foot behind her.

"Oh, Jade, I'm so sorry! Are you okay? I can't believe it! What happened -"

My hand curls around the dent of Cat's elbow. I yank her off, suddenly defensive, shoving my shoulder between her and Jade until I'm completely blocking the other girl. Facing Cat, I relax my hold, keeping my face as friendly as possible. Cat's easy to scare and that's not what I'm trying to do - but I promised to protect Jade, and I'm not falling back on that. "Cat," I say slowly, giving Cat a soft smile. "Let's not overwhelm her today, all right? Just give her some space."

Cat's jittering finally slows down. She takes a deep breath. "Sorry," she says, and, assured she isn't going to pop like a balloon, I let go of her.

Trying again, Cat looks over my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Cat." Jade's voice is light. I turn to catch her eyes, but her gaze is on Cat.

Cat nods, hands joining in front of her stomach. An itching feeling drags my eyes away to see a sea of students staring at us. Most aren't even trying to hide the fact that they're staring, though some try to duck behind their books and purses. My eyes narrow, anger churning inside of me. This desire - no, this need - to protect Jade swells in my chest. I reach back until my fingers gently find Jade's wrist, pulling her to my side. She angles close to me.

"You all right?" I hush under my breath.

She nods curtly.

The bell erupts. Cat lingers for a moment longer, touching Jade's arm until she's given a reassuring smile. She skips off, the crowd milling about with low whispers and obvious gossiping as Jade and I remain by the front doors. I turn, an apology already half out of my mouth when Jade raises her hand.

"It's fine. You did your best." She takes a deep breath and readjusts her backpack. She starts walking to her locker and I follow beside her. I can't help feeling guilty; I've already slipped up once! What kind of promise-holder am I? "It's Cat," she continues. "She's kind of hard to hold back. Besides, I don't mind so much when it comes from her. I know she means it."

I relax. "You're not mad?"

Jade's eyebrows twitch as she opens her locker, glancing at me. "Why would I be mad at you?"

I give her a smile, but something moving behind her catches my attention. My gaze shifts and before I can stop my alarm, they're widening. Jade spins to follow my gaze and I watch each limb stiffen like stone. Her mouth drops open, eyes wide. My hand drifts toward her arm but she doesn't seem to register the touch.

Beck looks up from his phone. He blinks between the two of us before wringing one hand through his dark hair. He swallows, glances both ways, and then takes a step forward. Jade flinches back like he's throwing some kind of assault on her. I want to yell at him to stay back, to go away and give her some room, but when I promised to protect Jade from other people, was Beck included in that?

"Hey." He says the word softly, shoving his phone into his pocket. He nods to me before turning his attention back to Jade. It's awkward, and a part of me feels like I should leave - but my gut (as well as other organs, like the one pounding against my ribcage) tells me to stay by Jade's side like I said I would. I plant my feet firmly to the ground.

Jade snaps herself out of it. She shoves the locker door shut with her elbow. "Hi."

"Jade, can we -"

"No." Jade shoots the word like a bullet. She steps closer to me. "C'mon," she says. "Let's go."

She starts marching. I jog after her, keeping my eyes away from Beck as we take the long way to class. Jade remains silent as we ascend the stairs and I don't know what to say or how to say it, so I keep quiet. Without a word, she shoves her way into one of the upstairs girls' bathrooms. I put my hand on the door but keep standing there, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. "Am I supposed to -?"

"Yes."

I duck in. She's bracing herself on the sink, eyes closed, black hair tumbling to shield her face. I move close to her, pulling her hair back and tucking it securely behind one ear. "Breathe, Jade."

"I don't want to be here." She hisses through her teeth, back stiff. "I don't want to feel them all staring at me or hear them whispering and I definitely don't want to see him everywhere I go." Her eyes open but they linger on the sink. "Maybe I should go home."

"Hey." I grasp her shoulder, forcing her to turn. She doesn't look at me right away, gaze on her hands. I wait until those hardened orbs of green flick up to meet my own. "You can do this. Need I remind you of your strength? Your bravery? Your courage?"

"Are you my therapist now?"

"If I have to be."

Jade smiles weakly. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. "I made us both late for class. Sorry."

"Oh, you know Sikowitz. He's terrified of you. Just give him one of those death glares."

Her smile broadens. I wrap one arm around her shoulders as we leave the bathroom and slip into class. As expected, Sikowtiz doesn't yell at us for being late and I'm positive it has to do with the knives Jade is shooting with her pupils. She sits next to me, on the far side of the room, opposite to where Beck and Robbie sit. Andre and Cat wave back at us from the front, frowning uneasily between Jade and I. I try not to look in any direction through the whole period, keeping my eyes firmly rooted on Sikowitz, but I can still see the other students. Cupped hands over quick-speaking mouths, discreet fingers hiding behind folders and books. I give periodic glances toward Jade who remains frozen, arms crossed, head slightly down. To her credit, she looks like she's about to pull out a machine gun and do away with all of us, which I'm sure is what is keeping the rest of the class quiet.

As soon as the first bell releases us, the room erupts into noise. I distract Jade as best as I can with conversation, to try and drown out the obvious gossiping going on around us. I glance to see Beck duck out of the room as fast as he can.

"My jaw hurts," Jade grumbles, hoisting her backpack over her shoulder. I reach up instinctively, my hands landing on each cheek and massaging my fingertips into the tight muscles.

"Stop trying to grind your teeth into dust. That will help wonders."

She tries to make a face, but I bunch her cheeks together and she ends up looking like a distorted fish. I laugh and, though she tries not to, Jade's lips press into a smile, muffled by the crook of her elbow.

I have my next class with her, but not the one after. As we part in the hallway, I can see a sense of dread plaguing her eyes. I squeeze her hand before I take off in the other direction, giving her the 'okay' hand sign. All through that hour I feel like I'm about to explode, my foot jittering against the floor. I've chewed my eraser to bits and picked furiously at all ten of my nails before I look at the clock, and it's only been fifteen minutes.

"Tori?"

I look up. I have Pre-Calc this hour and Robbie's the only friend of mine in the same course. His puppet, Rex, sits propped up in the desk next to him. "Yeah?"

His eyes flick everywhere but me behind his glasses. Finally, he says, "So, uh. Beck and Jade. That's some ... some crazy stuff."

Robbie, although he's known me for over a year now, has always been a nervous boy. He doesn't take drama or conflict very well and I can tell that it's messing with his psyche. He's a boy of routine, of the same old, and this bump in the road is obviously hard for him to handle. "Yeah," I reply, very conscious of the eyes weighing on my back. "It is."

Robbie nods, his pencil wiggling over his notebook between two of his fingers. "How are we all supposed to hang out now?"

I frown at him. "What do you mean?"

He spreads his hands. "You know. If two friends date and then break up, it's ... it's gonna be awkward now for the rest of us."

"Only for a little while." I look down at the numbers on my book. "I'm sure they can be friends."

Robbie doesn't look so convinced. "She broke his heart. This changes things -"

"Woah." What did he just say? Did he just say what I think he said? I twirl in my seat, one hand on the back of my chair, the other clenched on the edge of my desk. "What? What did you say?"

The curly-haired boy looks about ready to run out of the room. "Er, she broke his heart ...?"

"Who told you that?" As soon as I ask, I realize there's only one person who could. "Beck? Did Beck say that?"

"Yeah?" Robbie looks terribly confused. "She broke up with him on Friday night at Starbucks. Right there in the middle of all those people."

I blink. Rage is churning in my stomach, blazing down the veins in my arms and neck. I've always liked Beck - he's a smart, nice kind of guy, and the last thing I would have ever suspected of him was lying. Especially about something like this. I turn back to face the front of the class again, my hands pressed against my temples. He knew no one would ask Jade to clarify because they'd be too afraid of her lashing out at them. He doesn't want to seem like the bad guy. That would damper his chances of getting more dates. I shake my head, leaning back in my chair and glaring hard at the whiteboard. I don't even consider the chance that Jade could have lied to me. I know, in my gut, that there's no way she did. I've seen Jade now, I know her. And somehow I'm absolutely positive that from here on out, she'll never lie to me again.

The class is dismissed and the students are up and running down the halls. It's lunch time. I weave my way through the students, on a mission, gripping my shoulder straps as I march toward Beck's locker. He's already there, thumbing around on his phone. Before he has the chance to shut his locker door, I slam it for him, the sound lost in a sea of footsteps and hollering kids. It's still enough to make Beck jump, though, whirling around to face me with wide, dark eyes.

"Woah, hey." He glances between my hand, still flat on his locker, and my face. "What's up?"

"How dare you." My voice is thick and dark. I'm not one for vulgar language - that's Jade's forte, but I am pissed. My blood feels like it's about to boil out of my mouth. "How dare you lie about what happened on Friday."

His black brows twitch together. "Look, Tori, I don't mean to make this sound nasty but that is really none of your business."

"She's my friend. You can't just go around lying to people about what happened! You're making yourself look like the victim here."

"Who says I'm not?" Beck tries to move around me, but I step in his way. He makes a rough noise. "Tori, seriously, you don't know our relationship like you think you do."

"You broke up with her."

"I didn't have a choice!"

People are staring now. I didn't realize how many kids were lagging in the halls just to watch us spit at each other, since it's obvious this isn't friendly banter.

I ignore them, tightening my voice and lowering it a few pitches. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Beck rolls his eyes. "Look, I know from the outside - to you, and everyone else, hell, even her sometimes - thought everything was honkey dory and amazing and we were just perfect." His own voice lowers now, head ducked. "But you don't know her like I do. I don't even know her as well as I wanted and I've been with her for almost three years. She never -" Beck sighs, a hand clamping down on the back of his neck. "She refuses to let me in. Anyone. Even after all this time it's almost impossible for her and I to have a deep conversation. It shouldn't feel like that. I shouldn't feel like she's blocking me out."

My anger hasn't subsided - in fact, it's only growing in volume. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe that's all she can do right now? You know about her parents. You know she doesn't trust other people easily."

Confusion flickers past Beck's eyes, like he can't believe I already know so much about Jade, who is usually so private and secretive. "After three years, I think I've done my fair share of waiting."

"That's not how love works. You don't just put people on a timer, Beck."

"Yeah, and how would you know?"

That stops me cold. I open my mouth only to close it. He's right. I don't know, or shouldn't know, because I've never been in a relationship like his. I shake my head. "Whatever. Your reasons are your reasons, but stop going around telling people that it was her who broke up with you. It makes her look bad, and if you ever loved her, you would treat her better than that."

Beck rubs his neck again. He's frowning. Giving one nod, he rounds me and walks out the back doors, out into the courtyard. I release a tense breath.

"Tori?"

I blink, spinning, seeing Jade with her eyebrows connected over her nose. She glances between me and the doors. "You all right?"

"Hm? Yeah. Yeah, I, uh -" I press my lips together. I think about how I just chastised Beck for lying about her - how could I even consider lying to her? I meet her eyes, stepping close and checking the hallway before speaking. "Beck's ... he was telling people that you broke up with him. But I told him to stop," I say quickly, because she looks like she's about to fall over. I grab her elbows, straightening her, but I can see the edges of tears burning her eyes. "Jade -"

"That fucker." Fizzling through her sadness is anger. She tears away from me. I burst after her, failing to call her back. Out in the sun, the yellow light sets her black hair on fire. She slams into another student, ripping the small bottle of some kind of pink juice out of her hands.

"Jade!"

She doesn't turn. She marches through the tables, coming up behind Beck, who sits between Andre and Robbie. Cat, on the other side of the table, looks up, lips parting in horror, but it's too late.

Jade turns the bottle upside down. The pink liquid drenches Beck's hair, who tenses but doesn't turn around. I stop moving, mouth agape, watching as Jade bends over to meet Beck's eyes.

"You can break up with me and make me feel like shit all you want, but do not think you can get away with telling lies about me." She draws closer. "I thought we could be friends, Beck. I really did." She lingers for a moment longer. It's the sound of a teacher shouting from the doors that draws her away.

I can't move. I meet Jade's eyes as she passes me to find her grinning at me. She even winks.

I relax, mirroring the smile, turning to watch her march with pride back through the doors.

And I know that she's already on the right track.


	11. Chapter 11

**_|Jade|_ **

"I don't understand." Lane, running his palm over the short, tight black curls on his head, stares between Beck and I with a disapproving look. "Weren't you two in love on Friday?"

I glance sidelong at Beck. He has a towel in his hands, damp with the pink juice I had poured on him not twenty minutes earlier. His long, black hair is still slick with it, his white shirt stained, and I can't help the smug smile that roots itself on my lips. I turn back to Lane, the poor guidance counselor of Hollywood Arts who has yet to guide me in the right direction (he's been trying since I was a freshman and never really succeeded) who crosses his arms and furrows his brow at us.

"We broke up." I pause, allowing the intensity of those words to sink and hook themselves inside of me somewhere before I take a breath and speak again. "Contrary to what he has been telling people, he broke up with me. Just so that's clear."

I hear Beck sigh beside me. I risk another look in his direction and he's pinching the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, like I'm some insolent child he can't tame. Anger bubbles under my skin, setting my blood to boil. I twist in my chair, half ready to launch myself at him with my nails at the ready, only for Lane's body to slip between us.

"Okay, cool it." His hands are raised, palms out. After he's assured I won't tackle Beck, he steps away again, sitting on the edge of the swing that dangles from the ceiling in his office. He studies us for a moment longer. "You didn't pour juice on Beck because he broke up with you."

"No. I poured juice on him because he lied about it."

Lane shifts his eyes to Beck. "You've been telling people that she broke up with you."

Lifting his head, Beck says, "Two people. Robbie and Andre. It's not a big deal."

"Saying it to one person is a big deal!" I snap, my fingers curling around the edges of my chair as if that would hold me back. "You're lying!"

"It's more believable!" He shoots back, his face contorted just as angrily. "They didn't even question me when I said you broke up with me because you have broken up with me before."

I throw up my hands. "A year ago, for two days!"

"Hey!" Lane interjects, but we continue to shout over him. We bicker back and forth for almost a minute before Lane grabs a whistle from his desk and blows into it ferociously, the high-pitched scream silencing both of us, hands clamping over our ears. He waits for a minute, glaring. Finally, he folds his hands over his stomach and turns to Beck, but keeps the whistle curled in his palm. "Why did you break up with her?"

Beck blinks, hands squeezing the towel. "Is that really any of your -"

"Yes. It is because you two are my students and this is obviously tough for both of you. I want to help you get through this."

I stare longingly at the door. I don't want to be here. I don't want to listen to this. I just want to go back outside in the hot sun and sit with Tori and eat a salad. I want to listen to her talk and forget about Beck because I only feel better when I'm with her. Which should freak me out, or at the least piss me off, but it doesn't, and I'm tired of feeling conflicted about it. I turn my head back to Beck, who once more pinching his nose, and my heart gives a hollow thump in my chest.

He lied. He lied. I can't think of one time I had ever seen him lie, even to his parents or his teachers. He's always been honest - it's one of those things I always loved about him. He's not afraid of the truth. My eyebrows crunch over my nose. If he can lie - about me, no less - then what else is he capable of that I never knew about? Is he even the boy I've thought him to be all this time?

"I love her." He props his chin in his hand. He doesn't look at me. "I do. I wouldn't have been with her as long as I was if I didn't love her."

My throat feels tense. I swallow, or try to, and I can feel Lane watching my expression. He clears his throat and says, "But?"

"But." Beck sighs, shoulders sinking. Turning, he sets his dark eyes on me. "I told you, back at the coffee shop. I don't know what I want. I've only ever been with you."

"That doesn't make any sense," I manage, my voice quivering despite my best efforts. I sink back in my chair and tear my eyes away from him. "If you love me the way you say you do, then you would just - you wouldn't care that I was your only 'real' girlfriend - whatever that means. You wouldn't want to test drive someone else."

"I don't -" He halts, sighs, rubs his face with his fingers. "It's not just that. It's -" his eyes jerk toward Lance before finding me again. "It's other stuff, too."

"What? What did I do? Just give me a straight answer." I'm still angry, but the mean front is cracking and I can feel tears burning behind my eyes. I just want to know, to understand, because being kept in the dark is worse than knowing. "I don't understand." My voice cracks. Beck's eyebrows dig over his nose. I know he doesn't like hurting me. I know he cares. But that won't stop him from doing what he's doing. That won't make him take back the break-up.

I blink when the thought occurs to me - do I want him to take me back?

Do I want him back?

"You're so closed in," he says, looking back to his towel. "It's been almost three years and you still keep me out. Every time I try and get closer to you, you pull back."

I don't know what my expression is doing because I'm not sure what I feel. What he's saying doesn't make any sense - he's the closest I've ever been to a person. The only person that rivals that intimacy is Tori, and that's just of this past weekend. I look down. Now that I think about it ... in those two days, I revealed things to Tori - my parents divorce, my insecurity about what people say and think about me, even trivial things like my favorite foods and movies and colors, how I like my coffee - that was all stuff that I waited months to reveal to Beck. Not because I didn't want him to know, but because it took me a long time to ease down my guard, to let him in. I don't know why it wasn't like that with Tori. I never felt the need to throw up my walls. And even with Beck, there were instances where I was uncomfortable with him knowing some things, so I would store them away until later - but that didn't mean I wasn't ever going to tell him. I've always trusted him.

It occurs to me that I might trust Tori more than Beck, which is a terrifying thought, considering I've known her for far less time and have only very recently even called her my friend. I don't know how I feel about it, or how I should feel about it, but the fact that it could be true really scares me.

I stand. I'm done feeling like this. I'm done letting him make me feel like this.

You're Jade West, she had said, washed in the sunlight on her deck.

Tough as nails, I tell myself, turning to face Lane and Beck with my arms crossed.

"I'm sorry I wasn't enough for you." I say the words as thickly as I can, watching as they weigh down on Beck, who bows over his damp towel. I turn to Lane. "I'm not sorry I dumped juice on his head, but I'll take whatever punishment you've got."

Lane gestures back to my chair. "Please, Jade, can we just -"

"No. I'm done."

He backs down. He eyes Beck for a moment before speaking. "Detention. Every day this week after school. Two hours."

"No, it's okay." Beck stands, too, wringing the towel in his hands. "I don't want her to get in trouble."

Lane raises his eyebrows. "This isn't court, Beck. You don't get to decide if you can press charges or not. She behaved badly on school grounds. I have to discipline her. I can't make exceptions." He turns to me now. "Don't make this a habit, Jade."

"Won't happen again." I turn my burning gaze on Beck before spinning on the heel of my boot and flinging myself out of the classroom. I march straight to the girls' restroom to calm myself down. I press my fingertips under my eyes until I'm certain I won't cry, and then make my way to my next class.

Lunch has long since been over, but I have this hour with Tori. I slip into the quiet classroom, exchanging a knowing look with my teacher who glares pointedly before waving me toward the sea of desks. The ones beside Tori on either side are taken, but the one behind her is vacant. I drop into it, nudging the tip of my boot into her lower back.

She's half glaring when she turns around but a smile overwhelms her expression as soon as she sees me. Instantly dropping her pencil, she twists to face me and her expression quickly shifts to that of concern. I can read it in the worried curves of her eyebrows, the nervous pluck of her lip with the corner of one tooth. "Are you okay?"

She says it so sincerely that I almost feel like crying again. I nod, leaning closer. "Detention every day this week. That's the worst of it."

Tori's face falls for a moment, only to perk up again. "I'll stay here with you."

"It's two hours," I clarify, though I can't say I don't want her there. It would definitely make those hours bearable. I can't help but think, once again, about how I couldn't stand her a week ago. I never wanted to be around her, and I made it a point to make sure she knew that I wasn't there by choice. Thinking back on it, I can't even remember the sole reason for feeling the way I did. I just knew that she intimidated me, that her bubbliness had a certain … attraction that freaked me out. I didn't want to want to be around a girl like that, so I forced myself into thinking she was awful.

But she's not. I rest my chin on the open palm of my hand. She's not awful at all.

Tori is shrugging her shoulders. "I don't care. I have nothing else to do, and I like spending time with you."

The words have my eyebrows rising in surprise.

She makes a face. "What? Your company is very enjoyable."

"If you enjoy venomous snakes."

"You're not a snake," she laughs, her arm extending across my desk so her hand can settle on my bare wrist. "You're more like a mouse."

"Ladies."

We both twist to face our frowning, disgruntled teacher. He spins a finger at us and Tori turns, bending back over her book, but not without throwing back another smile at me.

At the end of the school day, while everyone else races toward the doors, I text my mom telling her I have detention. I've gotten in trouble before, so this isn't exactly a new thing. I grab the homework I don't plan on doing and make my way to the room detention is always held in - the only room in Hollywood Arts that doesn't have a window. It looks like a cell, the walls painted a mute gray, with a lonely chalkboard that never gets used on the wall where the door is. When I walk in, there's already two other kids sitting there, one boy and one girl, who don't even look up as I sit down, near the back. I'm not foreign to this place, so I lean back with ease, releasing a heavy sigh. It's moments later when Tori slithers in, her eyes instantly on guard when they assess the tiny room and the two other kids inside. As soon as she sees me, however, she noticeably relaxes. My brows flicker in thought at this - do I comfort her? Is she okay with this place because I'm here? Tori's not a detention kind of student, but she is the kind of student to sit with her friends during detention. Following behind Tori are three more kids attending detention, all of them intimidating in their own way - not to me, but I can see Tori flick her eyes over them uneasily as she walks down the aisle to join me.

Tori swings her backpack on top of the desk beside me, scooting it a little closer. I offer a smile to her, about to say something only to be interrupted by the teacher with detention duty this week to open the door. I've had him before, and he's usually pretty chill about whatever we do in here. He takes attendance, only raising a curious eyebrow at Tori when she explains she's here by choice and not because she's in trouble. He glances at me when she says it, shrugging before moving on.

There isn't much chatter after that among the other students, but Tori slides her desk next to mine. We talk quietly, my math book propped to give us privacy.

"Closed in?" Tori questions, after I've told her about the meeting with Lane. Her eyebrows scrunch down over her nose. "I don't get it. He's your - he was your boyfriend, he's supposed to love you the way you are."

I shrug. I don't really understand what he meant by that, either. I can't think of anything of major importance that he didn't already know. "Apparently I wasn't open enough." I press my palm against my temple, frowning.

"Actually, when I was talking to him earlier, he seemed ... almost confused."

"About what?" I pick my head up, watching her chew her lip, thinking.

"I told him ... that, you know, that your parents divorce made you not trust people easily, right? And he looked at me like he couldn't believe I knew that."

I look back at my open math book. Why would he think that to be a curious thing? I told Tori about that, what, the second day I was at her house? When did Beck learn about it? I don't bring it up often and people don't usually ask that kind of thing. Does Andre know? Cat? I frown when I can't remember.

"I didn't tell Beck about it until a few months into our relationship - it never came up. I didn't think it was important. Maybe that's why." I settle my chin into my hand. "With you, it just kind of ... came out. I didn't really think about saying it until it was already out there."

That statement should mean something. With Tori, I don't think about saying a lot of things I end up telling her. They just barrel out of my mouth without any real consent from my mind. Is that because I trust her? More than Beck? More than anyone?The thought makes me a little nervous, but when I look up at her, it's replaced with something warm and strong in my gut. Faith? Do I believe in her?

I scold myself. It sounds ridiculous.

By the look on Tori's face - thoughtful, concentrated - she seems to be thinking about the same thing. Finally she just smiles, shrugging her slim shoulders. "It's supposed to be that way with friends." Her expression falls. "I just don't understand how he could have broken up with you over that. He should have stayed and fought for you." Her head falls against her closed fist, her next words whimsical, as if she means to keep them in her head. "If you were my girlfriend, I'd fight for you."

Blinking at her, I watch her expression shift from soft to shocked and back to neutral again in the matter of a few seconds. She's an actress, so she's good at covering up whatever she might have been feeling. I don't comment, simply watching her as she twiddles with the corner of a page in her book.

We fall back into less serious conversation, but those words hang over us.

She would fight for me.

If I were her girlfriend. Not if she was a boy and she was my boyfriend, but if I was hers.

I don't know how I'm supposed to feel. My stomach still feels warm, but my heart is doing weird pitter-patters in my chest. I think about how she said I was more like a mouse earlier, and how that was probably supposed to be nice, but all I can think about is how even mice can frighten gentle, sweet elephants.


	12. Chapter 12

**_|Tori|_ **

The week passes by in segments of class, lunch, class, detention. And, of course, constantly Jade. My mom questions me more than once, suspecting that I actually am in trouble and I'm staying after to deal with some bad deed I never told her about. I assure her as best as I can, though she still doesn't understand why I'm sacrificing my free time for a friend.

I don't really understand it, either. Not when I think back to a few weeks ago. Jade still hated me then. She ignored me and insulted me and treated me like she did most everyone who wasn't Beck - like she absolutely could not stand being anywhere near me. At the time I just kind of took it as it was, convinced I couldn't change it, never thinking for a moment that Jade of all people would ever want to be my friend.

But she does, and that thought by itself makes me happier than I would have ever thought. I mean, I've always liked having friends, and while I've been selective with those who I keep close, I give the benefit of the doubt more often than not. I trust Jade, which is something I would have never said even a week ago. Without really thinking about it, I let her rely on me and in return, I gained a friendship I would have never thought possible.

I'm sure they could probably make an after school special about us if they really wanted to.

Friday is the last of her detention sentence. I'm on my way there, bowed over my phone, when someone bumps into me. I glance up, ready to apologize, only to find Beck's angry gaze glaring me down. I stop, frozen, trying to form words but my mouth only flops uselessly on my face.

His face is stern, black hair yanked back in a ponytail. He straightens, gaze flicking across my face before he speaks.

"She won't even look at me anymore," he says, and I can see his jaw grinding. "Since when are you two so close?"

It's so unprecedented that I don't how to react for several moments, just staring at him. I've never really seen Beck mad before, even when I confronted him on Monday. He at least had a degree of coolness to his words. But this is like a sword without a sheath aimed straight at my face. I swallow, trying to regain myself before I speak. "When you dumped her for not being good enough. Which she is, by the way."

He falters. His mean front shatters and breaks at his feet when he looks down at them. Beck isn't a naturally hostile person. I bet he was trying to act like Jade, who is always mad at something, but he can't master it like she can. "She won't answer my texts, my calls, my messages online. I try to talk to her in school and she just brushes me off."

I raise my eyebrows. "What do you expect her to do? Hold your hands in the hallway? You broke up with her, Beck."

Beck's face flinches. "I know," he says, but he doesn't sound all too happy about it. "But I didn't think she'd write me out of her life."

I frown, pushing my phone into my pocket. I don't know what I'm supposed to do here. Beck and I have always been friends, but since he broke up with Jade, I haven't hung out with him at all, really. Actually, most of my free time has been with Jade. I'm with her between classes, at lunch, during detention. Sometimes we get coffee afterward. Cat and Andre are usually present (Robbie's stuck around Beck for the most part) but I'm almost always taking with Jade. I didn't think about it much until now. I like talking to her, so I do. A lot. She called me last night, even, and we stayed up until eleven reading each other terrible knock-knock jokes we found on the internet.

I shake my head slightly, clearing my thoughts. "Look, you really hurt her. I don't think you understand how much."

Beck shifts his backpack on his shoulder. He doesn't look at me for a while, still studying his shoes in silence. Finally, he lifts his gaze. "She'll do it to you, too. Eventually. Block you out, I mean."

Narrowing my eyes on him, my weight shifts to one hip. "And if she does, I'll stay, because I care about her, and that's what you do when you care about someone." I don't mean to make him feel bad, but I can't help but feel angry with him. Having grown so close to Jade over the past week, I can't figure out what he had a problem with. "You stay and fight and figure it out."

Beck's eyes meet mine again. "You're talking like you're her girlfriend or something."

My throat tenses up. He must notice, because his eyes narrow slightly, lips parting to form some kind of question that I don't linger to hear. I spin on my heel and march toward the detention room, clinging to both backpack straps.

I don't want to think about what Beck was implying. It scares me, frankly. I mean, it really freaks me out. Because I like Jade, honestly, I like her a lot. I'm glad I can call her my friend. A close friend, one I want to keep. But what Beck was insinuating is much deeper, much ... more, and I've let more than one comment that alluded to more-than-friends already with Jade. I usually just skimmed over them, blushing like crazy. I don't even know where they come from. They just tumble out of my mouth and stare me in the face. Jade hasn't mentioned anything yet, though I doubt it's because she hasn't noticed the gravity of my careless words. I'm grateful she doesn't question it. I don't know what I would say if she did.

Shouldering into the detention room, I relax when I see Jade leaning back in her usual desk, smiling at me, like she had been watching the door for my arrival. I slip in the desk beside her, filling her in on what Beck had said when I ran into him, and choosing to omit the part about me acting like a girlfriend. Jade, frowning, balances her temple on her fist and gives a rough sigh. It's still hard for her - I can see it in the tense lines around her mouth and eyes, the way she gets quiet whenever she sees Beck in the hallways or in class. I don't expect her to get over it quickly by any means, but already I can tell that it's becoming at least a little easier for her. Whenever she sees Beck, she fixes her gaze on me. Whenever we talk about Beck, she rolls her forehead on my shoulder and sighs. And when we don't talk about Beck, I can tell she's happy.

"I don't understand him. I mean, we were together for so long, you'd think I'd know him inside out. But this ... this isn't like him at all." She stares hard at the desk.

"What does he mean, exactly? Blocking him out?"

She shrugs. "I really don't know. I can't think of anything major that he didn't know. I guess it was because I didn't talk about very often? He'd try, sometimes, to get me to talk about when I was a kid and stuff, but ... that shit wasn't fun. I don't want to talk about it like just because it's in the past, it doesn't still hurt. It's like he wanted to know every detail of my past to figure out who I am now. Which is stupid. I want to move forward, not look back."

Jade usually speaks in short sentences, so these kind of drawn-out speeches always capture me entirely. I'm half leaning on her desk when she's done, her great green eyes locking into mine behind the privacy of my propped up Chemistry book. I didn't realize we were so close. I can feel her breath on my lips, can see each individual black lash that flutters above her eyes. I watch as her pupils drift from the lower part of my face - my mouth, I think absently - before they focus on my eyes again. I don't remember what we were talking about, where we are, only that the book blocks us from the view of the teacher, the other students, and her lips are slightly parted, shiny from lipgloss, and I wonder how Beck felt when he kissed her -

Jade yanks back first. Her breath comes in choppy waves, much like mine, and we stare in different directions for a while. I speak first, falling into character as if I'm in a play. "Well, that boy is going to learn his mistake soon enough," I say with a light laugh, and Jade presses a smile in my direction, but I can tell that neither of us really know what just happened or how to deal with it. My heart is still hammering against my ribs, rushing in my ears.

When detention ends, she says she'll see me tomorrow and heads for her car. I hover by the school doors, watching her back. I can't let her leave like that, with that awkward moment - one of many, but by far the most intense - being the last thing she remembers of today. "Wait!"

She turns. I jog after her. A light California sprinkle is drizzling from the light gray sky. I can tell she just wants to get in her car and drive away, pretend it didn't happen, but I don't want to lose her as soon as I've got her. In fact, the very idea makes my heart ache. I swallow, standing in front of her and simply trying to conjure up words.

Finally, I cough out, "Sorry." I meet her eyes, green orbs crinkled by furrowed brows. I close my own eyes tightly, comforted by not having to look her in the eye. "I know you just got over a big break up and I shouldn't even be considering the kinds of things I sometimes think about and I'm sorry if I'm making this more difficult than it has to be." I stop, hoping she'll interject, but nothing happens. My eyes creak up. She's staring at the ground. I swallow and continue. "I'm not - I'm so happy to be your friend, Jade. And I don't know if it's all the time we've been spending together this week or not but I promise I won't let it get to be anything serious. I don't want to ruin -" My hands gesture between us, "this."

Jade finally looks up. She tries a smile, and although it's faint, I can tell she's trying for my sake. "Do you have a crush on me, Vega?"

My heart gives a tight squeeze before I relax, trying to take the accusation as smoothly as possible. "Maybe a little." I laugh before shrugging my shoulders. "It isn't - don't worry about it, okay? I'm sure it's just this new friendship and all this time talking to you."

"Should we take a break?"

I shake my head almost vigorously at the idea, stepping forward and touching her arm. "No! No, no, it's fine, really, Jade." I realize how desperate my voice sounds only after I say it, stepping back and planting my arms at my side. "It's nothing, I swear. It must be your good looks."

That shakes a real laugh out of her. "Let's do this. We'll take a day off - just a day - to give us both some ... breathing space." Her eyes are soft, careful. "Not because I don't like spending time with you. Trust me. I love spending time with you." She coughs, swallows. "But it has been a lot all at once, hasn't it?"

I don't want to not talk to her, even for a day, but maybe she's right. Maybe I need a day or two to clear my head. I nod slightly, shifting my backpack. "We'll just get our thoughts together. I'm sure it'll pass."

Jade nods. She doesn't deny what I was suggesting - that she had a crush on me, too, even if it was little - so I take it that she does. Something inside of me lights, a candle, a streetlight, glowing us down the right path. I smother it out, though. I can't be Jade's rebound. I can't be anything but her friend. Right now. Ever, I correct myself, giving her a hasty goodbye and promising a phone call on Sunday afternoon. I climb into my car and watch out the windshield as she drives off, slumping over in my seat. I rub my forehead and find my phone.

I need to talk to someone. Someone that isn't her. Who do I trust more than her? Who did I always turn to before I started hanging out with Jade?

Andre says to walk right in on the phone, so when I pull into his house - a two-leveled brick building, inhabited by him, his grandma, and two small, yappy dogs - I walk in without knocking. Andre's grandmother recognizes me this time, but usually she mistakes me for some friend of hers she had in high school. I chat with her for awhile before I jog up Andre's stairs, pushing into his room. It's a large room with guitars on the wall, a keyboard with a microphone, a large TV and a computer. Andre is plucking away at one of his acoustics on the edge of his bed, not looking up when I walk in.

"Hey, chica," he sings, testing out some new melody a few times before he looks at me. I crash on his computer chair. "What's up?"

I kick off of his computer desk, sending me twirling in circles. I close my eyes and relish in the sensation of dizziness. "I've got some stuff to tell you."

"Oh yeah? Like how you and Jade are suddenly bffs?" His tone isn't mean, but I can tell there's almost a hint of jealousy in his voice.

I open my eyes and plant my feet on the floor. "You're my best friend."

"I know." Andre pats the guitar's belly before setting it on the bed. "Fill me in."

So I do. I tell him about the break-up and how Beck lied about it - it takes me a few minutes to convince Andre of that, but once I explain why Beck would have done such a thing, he leans on my side - about Jade spending the weekend with me and staying two hours after school every day during detention this week. By the time I finish, I'm exhausted, but I finally squeeze in what had just occurred in the parking lot, how we may or may not have confessed that we had feelings for each other.

Andre's frowning. "When I had a crush on Jade, you were about ready to beat my brains in."

"That was before I really knew her." Thinking back on it, it makes me almost sick to realize that I was so against Andre liking Jade. I went out of my way to prove to him that she was nothing but a witch. I hate myself for it, determined to never judge someone like that again. "I didn't know she could be nice."

Andre sighs, elbows on his knees. "What are you going to do?"

"What she said, I guess. Take a day off. Talk to her again on Sunday. I mean, she's probably right. We've been together every day since the break-up. We've talked on the phone, texted, gone out for coffee." I twirl my thumbs. "I wasn't even sure if I really liked girls until now."

"That's not important," Andre says, waving my words away. "Don't worry about all that crap."

"I'm not." Liking girls has never been an issue with me. No, it's Jade that's the problem. The fact that we hated each other until recently, that she just got out of a long-term relationship, and that foreboding warning of Beck's - that she would eventually block me out. "It's just her, I guess."

"I'd take her advice. Take a day off, wait another week, see if the feelings stick. Sing about it."

I laugh. "That's always your advice."

Andre smirks. "I'm a songwriter. What do you expect?"

I stay for an hour or so longer, just talking, catching up on whatever I missed with him during the week I was so focused on Jade. I drink a bottle of pop before I head home. I'm just in time for dinner, listening to my parents' easy chatter and Trina squawking about some commercial for a hand lotion that she's auditioning for. I try to act interested, even a little, but my skills are lacking tonight. My head feels crowded, so I dismiss myself to my room as soon as I can. I try to distract myself with homework, determined to finish it all before I allow myself one second of Jade-thinking, which I've been doing a lot of lately.

It's done too quickly, though. By nine I have nothing to do but stare at my TV screen and try not to think about her. I need to think clearly and I can't do that when all I can remember is how sweet her breath was back in detention, or how pretty the color red is on her, or the way she laughs when she thinks something is truly funny. I find myself grinning into my palm before I even realize what I'm doing, giving a frustrated grunt as I glance out my window.

I wonder if she's having the same problem as me. I frown a little, staring down at my hands. I'm not half as interesting as Jade is, not having even a sliver of the allure that Jade does, but I can't help but wonder - and hope, a little - that she can't help thinking about me, too.


	13. Chapter 13

**_|Jade|_ **

I've never liked spending time in my house. Mom's usually never there and it's so huge and hollow that I feel way too small to be inside of it.

But I have nowhere else to go.

I drop in front of the piano in the parlor. It's white and covered in a thin sheet of dust - proving just how much time Mom and I use it. When I was little, it got played much more. My dad hired a piano instructor to give me lessons once a week, and when she wasn't there to remind me of my scales, I was making my own music. I loved to fiddle at the keys, combining sounds. What came out of the belly always excited me.

I press a key down and let the note ring out and fade away. Starting from the end, I press all of them, right to the last high note. Dust swirls up my nose, into my eyes. I blow it away, watching the millions of tiny particles tornado in the yellow shafts of light coming in from the window.

A break.

I grunt and slam my elbows on the keys. A disapproving sound grumbles from the piano. My fingers slide into my hair, yanking it back, my eyes squeezing shut.

Who takes a break from a friendship? I mean, I've never really had a close friend before, but I know that's not normal. Girls don't just stop hanging out because they've been spending too much time together. Girls fight when they spend too much time together. I know, I've seen it - the one year I went to a summer camp for 'growing actors' was a test to that. I've never seen so many girls brawl like men before in my life.

Tori and I aren't fighting. In fact, we're the farthest thing from that. Contrary to what I had convinced myself before Beck broke up with me, she's not annoying. She's painfully nice, but that's not a bad thing. She makes me laugh and keeps me happy. Without her, I likely would have drowned in self-pity by now. She stayed with me every day for detention - because she wanted to, not because she had to. We get along ridiculously well. It's hard to believe we were enemies a few weeks ago.

I push another high note on the piano. We've spent every day together, and even when we've been apart, there's the texting and the phone calls. Even now I want nothing more than to be talking to her, because when I am, it tames the whirlwind in my head. I feel calmer and looser and happier. I can't even say for certain if Beck made me feel that calm. I like to think he did, that that's one of the reasons I was with him for so long. It wasn't that Beck made me uncomfortable by any means, but Tori ... it's different, and confusing, and I'm giving myself a headache.

Because, shit, I actually like her.

I close my eyes again and see her standing there, her nervous hands folding and unfolding in front of her stomach, brown eyes skittering across the pavement of the parking lot. It was the first time I had ever seen her really unsure with how to act around me. There was something cute about the way she rocked on her heels and played with the edge of her shirt like she didn't even know she was doing it, the way she said maybe just a little when I asked her if she had a crush on me.

A low note this time.

A crush. On me.

How am I supposed to feel about that? My heart isn't a very good consultant, considering it's done nothing but spazz whenever Tori gets too close. And my brain is such a jumbled mess from Beck that I can't trust that organ, either.

My eyes return to the window. It's dinner time and Mom is out and I'm hungry and confused and Tori is occupying more of my thoughts than she should.

I watch TV for a few hours without really paying attention. I order Chinese food and convince the guy on the phone to bring me a fish head. He's hesitant at first, but at the promise of a big tip, he finally gives in. I shove the money into his tiny palm when he arrives and take the food into the kitchen, diving immediately for the fish head, wrapped carefully in paper. I don't know anything about fish, but it's gray, its black eyes empty and blank. Turning the sink on, I begin tearing the fish's flesh away, the muscles that make up its face, its eyes. The smell of fish fills the kitchen but I keep clawing away at the tissue until it's nothing but bone. I lift the fish skull out from the water and examine it, satisfied. I scrub it down with soap and spray air freshener to try and cloud the smell of fish before taking both the fish head and my Chinese food down to my room.

I set the fish head on my shelf of other animal skeletons. I've been collecting them since I was a little girl. When my parents were still together, my dad would humor me with a trip to the one of the wildlife reserves, where I would dig up all kinds of hideous, dead things. He never understood my fascination and, really, neither do I.

Biting into an egg roll and studying my handiwork, I feel like I've finally mastered my thoughts about Tori until - fuck.

Grumbling, I eat my lo mein with the TV on, though I barely look up. It's like Tori sprouted roots in my mind and every time I even barely think about her, it's a drop of water, a ray of sunlight. She branches out and fills me like a goddamn tree. By nine, I haven't succeeded in anything except comparing the girls on TV to Tori – how her smile is much fuller, her hair is shinier, her eyes are a better shade of brown – and I'm about to rip my hair out. And I still have all of tomorrow to not talk to her.

I scratch around the surface of my bed for my phone. My first instinct is to, of course, dial her number. Tell her I give up and that this is stupid and I just want to talk to her for the rest of the night. But I call someone else as a distraction.

Cat can talk for hours on end with hardly any participation on my part. She's delighted to hear my voice on the other end, squealing about how I never call her and how we haven't talked in ages. Without much coaxing, she launches into a story about her latest boy troubles, which involves some dude name Chip who has, apparently, been going to school with us since second grade. I've never heard of the guy, but I tell Cat he's a scumbag, anyway. I smile and relax against the bed, listening to Cat's high-pitched voice. Even if I pay just a little bit of attention, I can easily block Tori out. Feeling smug, I drift off for a while, Cat's words filling my head.

Somewhere in the midst of all her blabbering, I must have missed a question, because there's a prolonged silence that I don't remember the cause of. I snap open my eyes. "Cat?"

"Did you hear me?"

"Oh, no," I rub my eyes with my fingers. "You must've been mumbling. You know how I hate mumbling."

"Sorry!" Cat chirps. "I asked why you've been hanging out with Tori so much. It's a good thing, don't get me wrong! I love Tori, she's the greatest! But you never seemed to like her before – before –"

"Before Beck broke up with me." To my surprise, the words don't shake along my vocal chords when I speak. It still hurts, certainly, but I can at least say it without feeling like choking up. "Yeah, well, Vega's okay." I roll my eyes at the understatement.

"I know, right? She's super nice and way cool and very, very funny, don't you think? It's awesome that you're finally being friends with her. I'm so glad she came to Hollywood Arts –"

"Cat." Her admiration for Tori certainly isn't helping the not-thinking-about-her strategy I have going on. "Weren't you telling me about Chops?"

"Chip."

"Whatever. Talk about him instead."

She launches into her story again. I swear the girl could make a conversation with a wall with how responsive I am, but that's how Cat is. It doesn't take much to get her going. She's always been a nice girl and we've known each other since we were kids, when my parents were still together. When my dad moved out, I went to her first, because I didn't have many friends and she was always so happy, I thought it would help. It did, for a little while, at least, but there was only so much she could do. My mom certainly wasn't one to comfort me, so after Cat's cheerful pats on the back and cupcakes weren't enough to get me through the day, I just kind of shut myself up. Built walls instead of bridges, a moat, a couple dragons. It was a good tactic to keep people out, to make it seem like it wasn't worth the trouble. It worked for a long time.

As Cat rattles on, I think of the first time I met Beck. I must have been twelve. He was so little then, with an awkward body and a buzzed head but already so talented. He played Peter Pan the first year I knew him and I remember watching him from the audience with Cat beside me, completely taken by the lithe boy in green tights pouncing across the stage. He stole everyone's breath up there. He always has.

We actually met through Robbie in middle school and remained casual friends until we transferred to Hollywood Arts freshman year. It was obvious he was interested in me – always asking to hang out, begging to be paired up with me for acting projects and duets. At first, I refused to let him in just like everyone else. I didn't believe in love or relationships or anything lasting forever. My parents didn't and it hurt me to the point that I had promised I would focus on my career and nothing else for the rest of my life.

It took him a year. He never gave up. He was always there, calling me, showing up at my house with a movie and some popcorn. He never demanded anything other than my company, laughed at my jokes, took my overall angry attitude for what it was – a part of me. And finally, I couldn't ignore the butterflies in my stomach and I kissed him the summer between freshman and sophomore year, and that was that. I took a chance, gave in, fell in love, and then he, he -

I squeeze my eyes shut. Two hot tears trail down my temples, one getting lost in my hair while the other pools in my ear. Something choked must come out because Cat's voice halts, a hesitant, quiet "Jade?" filtering through the phone.

"Fuck," I say, rolling onto my stomach and pressing my face into the pillow. Something hot sears across my chest and I thought my heart could only break once, but I was wrong.

"Are you okay? Jade?"

I suck in a hard, fast breath. "Yeah, shit, yeah. I'm fine. Just." I shake my head into the pillow before lifting it, tucking it under one arm. "Break-ups suck."

"Oh, Jade. Do you want me to come over? We could watch some movies, paint our nails, talk."

I know she's sincere, that she absolutely means it, but I shake my head into the phone. "No, no, it's okay. I need to learn how to handle it alone."

She talks for a while longer, but I let her go shortly after I start crying. With my phone against my chest, I allow myself to cry and cry until my throat is sore and my eyes hurt. I hadn't given myself the time to mourn completely by myself yet and I know it's a vital part of the break up process, but, shit, it hurts. It hurts so much and it takes all of my self-control not to call Tori and beg her to come over because I know she would. She'd be here before I even finished the phone call.

Tough as nails, I chant in my head. Nails, nails, nails.

Knowing I have someone to turn to is nice, but I can't just let everything I have made myself to be fly out the window because of it. I'm Tori's friend, Cat's friend, Beck's ex – but I'm Jade West first.

By the time my eyes have dried out, I'm physically and emotionally spent. I slap the lights off and bury myself in the blankets. I drift for a couple of hours, not asleep or awake, which makes it easy to snap alert when I hear footsteps on the stairs leading to the basement. My hand snakes under the other pillow and grabs the bone chiseled handle of one of the many pocket knives I have hidden around the house, breath stilling in my lungs when my door cracks open. A sliver of yellow light stripes across my bed.

"Mom?" My hand recoils. I can just see her outline. Her face and body are completely blacked out.

"Just seeing if you were home."

I don't say anything. I hate when she pretends like she gives a shit when her and I are both fully aware that she doesn't. The door shuts again and I close my eyes. I thought I had won the not-thinking-of-Tori war, but now that I'm fully conscious, she slips in like a crafty spy. I'm too tired to fight it, so I let my walls crumble and allow Tori to swarm me like a warm wave.

She stars in my dream and it's peaceful.


	14. Chapter 14

**_|Tori|_ **

Saturday slugs by at a glacial pace. More than once my hand scoops up my phone, determined to end this nonsense, to tell Jade that I don't care about the growing feelings – that they may not even be real – and we should just hang out and talk as much as we want because we can, because it makes us happy.

But another determination trumps it, at least for the time. I need to prove to not only Jade that I can function without her, but to myself. I've never been bothered having to rely on people or opening up to those I think are worth it, but this urgency I have for Jade – this absorbing need to be with her all the time borders on something I don't know the name of and don't know how to describe.

Again, I am reminded about how I feel when I have a crush on someone. I shove the thought away. That's why this day off is necessary. I need to clear my head and sort out exactly how I feel about Jade.

Andre comes over and we eat lunch together. He plays me a new song he's writing and I can't help but think he was inspired by the troubles I confessed to him yesterday. The lines "you're a nice girl behind a scary mask, if you want me to take it off, all you have to do is ask" makes me raise my eyebrows at him, but he only grins and keeps playing.

I feel like I'm looking at the clock on my phone every five minutes. Noon passes. One. Despite all of the distractions around me – Andre, his music, his conversation – I can't stop my revolving thoughts; Jade, Jade, Jade -

"How many times are you going to check the time?"

I drop my phone into my lap and give a rough sigh. In the kitchen, Trina is making a sandwich ridiculously loudly, upset that I wouldn't make her own. I give Andre an apologetic look. "I must look like a jerk."

"No. You look smitten." Andre grins, this fingertips gliding over the strings. "C'mon. Let's sing about it."

Rolling my eyes, I sit up. "My feelings –" I stop. No. I don't have feelings for Jade. Right? That's what I'm supposed to be doing today … right? "Jade can't be condensed into a song. It would take an album."

"Would it?" He's smirking.

I shake my head. Moving from my couch to sit beside him, I settle my fist into his shoulder. "Well then, oh great songwriter. What should I sing?"

He ponders a moment, the dark skin of his fingers sliding over thick braids before his face brightens. Andre knows music on a level I can only ever hope to one day glimpse. Music speaks to me, certainly, and I'm passionate about it, but I can't make music like he can. The music he knows is much more personal. "I've got it," he finally says, readjusting his guitar. Trina stomps up the stairs behind us, giving me one last glare before she disappears. "You should know it. Here."

I know the song within a few short notes. It's an acoustic version but unmistakable. I stare at Andre for a moment before taking a deep breath and giving in.

I've got something to say to you  
Yeah, I've got something to say  
I noticed your eyes are always glued to me  
Keeping 'em here and it makes no sense at all

Andre is pressing his lips together as hard as he can, knowing he's found a song that's practically perfect for our situation. I mean, if I had feelings for Jade. Which I don't. I don't think. Maybe.

If you want to play it like a game  
Well come on, come on, let's play  
'Cause I'd rather waste my life pretending  
Than have to forget you for one whole minute

The music thrums with my heart strings. My voice grows softer, coming out from somewhere inside of me that's not a physical place.

I guess I'm dreaming again  
Let's be more than this

He cuts the song off, but I don't look at him. Like music often does, it's drawn me somewhere in my mind that is usually locked up, even to me. My eyes close and I reflect on the words I've just sung – let's be more than this – and I think of Jade and feel my heart take a giant leap against my ribs.

A loud sigh rattles out of me. I open my eyes, the place locks up again, but I've already seen – felt, really – enough to know what lies behind it. "I have a legitimate crush on Jade."

Andre laughs heavy and loud, wrapping an arm around me and tucking me close. His mouth is by my temple when he speaks. "I know."

He has to leave shortly after that to take care of his grandma, but I'm too restless to be alone. After talking to Cat on the phone, we agree to meet at a popular vendor that sells slushies and smoothies on the same block as Hollywood Arts. She's there by the time I arrive, dressed in a nauseating green dress and lots of pink jewelry. She embraces me immediately and chitters like a songbird as we order our drinks. It's a sticky kind of warm today in California, so I peel back my half jacket and throw my hair up as Cat and I occupy a circular picnic table behind the vendor. I sip at my strawberry banana smoothie and play with my napkin while Cat talks. I listen to her, of course, because it can't be all about me, and I give her some advice about this guy, Chip, that she's not sure if she should date. Before I even get a chance to ask her, she pounces on the subject of Jade.

"So. You and Jade are awfully close lately, hm?" She's grinning and a part of me thinks she knows already. As ditzy as she comes off to be, Cat's not stupid. In fact, she's quite intuitive. My suspicions are confirmed as she continues. "I didn't want to ask Jade straight up – she'd get super defensive and I hate making her mad – but I could just tell."

"I don't ogle her too much, do I?"

"Just a little." She giggles. "But she's pretty! She's nice in her own way, has that bad girl thing going on. I get it." She hums for a moment, the tune to "Bad Reputation", which makes me laugh.

I give her a smile before staring at my drink. "It's complicated, though. I mean, she and Beck just broke up, and she's just recently been able to trust me." I lift my shoulders and let them drop. "I don't know what to do."

"You like her." Cat smiles. "And she likes you. I think. She's kind of hard to read, but she's been with you nonstop this week." Suddenly, her eyebrows collide. "Why aren't you together now?"

"We decided to take a break. She – we thought maybe we were feeling this way because we've been spending too much time together. You know. It's a lot all at once, especially for her, who's going through such a rough time with Beck." My eyes darken. "He's not making it any easier on her, either. I don't know what he's trying to do, but he's all bent because she won't talk to him. What does he expect?"

Cat's face is solemn now. "You're mad at him?"

"Of course. He broke her heart and he's making her feel bad for not wanting to be around him. Why would she want to talk to him after he did that to her?"

"Just because he broke up with her doesn't mean he never loved her. Doesn't love her still." She looks nervously at her hands. "Beck's a nice guy."

I straighten, feeling guilty. "Oh, Cat, I'm not trying to turn you on Beck. I swear. This wasn't – it wasn't supposed to be some Beck-bashing party." I sigh. "I know he's a nice guy. I've liked him since I moved here. But you have to admit that what he's doing is a little … well, mean."

Cat chews on her lip for a moment, eyes indecisive, though she finally gives an affirmative nod. "I guess you and Jade both need to remember that he lost someone he loved, too. I know he broke up with her and that Jade has more reason to be angry, but breaking up is a two-way street. He hurts, too. He doesn't know how to handle this any more than Jade does."

I sit for a moment, mulling that over. I was so focused on Jade that I forgot Beck has feelings, too, that this was probably one of the most difficult decisions he had to make. I frown down at my drink. His actions – trying to talk to Jade during school, texting her, calling her – haven't been out of malice. Beck's too nice for that. Maybe he's sincere about being friends with her. He wasn't with her for almost three years just because she's good looking. I might not understand why he broke up with her, but that doesn't change the fact that he's been my friend since I met him, much longer than I've been true friends with Jade.

Cat and I talk for a while longer, but she has a monologue to recite for Monday morning. She hugs me before taking off, reassuring me that "if the universe says it'll happen, it will!" I smile and wave at her as she speeds off in her car. I sit in mine with the windows down, staring at my phone. It's almost dinner time now. As I drive home I dial a number that isn't Cat's or Andre's or Jade's.

"Beck?"

"Tori?" He sounds confused. "Uh, hi. What's up?"

"I wanted to apologize for the way I've been treating you. Like you're a criminal or something." I take a deep breath. "It wasn't fair of me. I care about Jade, a lot, but you're my friend, too. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." I can tell it's at least partly a lie. "It's getting a little easier, I guess, but it's only been a week. Three years doesn't go away that easily. Apology accepted, by the way. I'm glad Jade went to you, really. I honestly don't know what she would have done if she hadn't."

I nod into the phone. I don't want to think about what would have happened had she not come to my doorstep, eyes puffy from crying, silently asking if she could come in. Nothing good, I'm sure. "I still wish you wouldn't have lied about the break-up. She wouldn't be half as mad."

Beck sighs regretfully into the phone. "In hindsight, it was a pretty awful thing to do. I've tried to apologize for it, but she won't answer my calls. She won't even look at my face."

"I think all we can hope for is that time will help. I have a feeling Jade is great at holding grudges."

"You have no idea," he says gruffly.

When I get home I hang up, promising to talk to him on Monday. I feel relieved and lighter as I walk into my house. I have dinner with my family before sitting on the couch to watch a movie with them. I sit between my sister and my dad, encompassed by their presence. I rest my head on Trina's shoulder (much to her complaining – her shoulders are 'perfect and were not crafted to be rested upon') but she doesn't push me off. Surrounded with their warmth, their closeness, I can't help but think of Jade again, and how, when she had this, it was for such a brief amount of time. What kind of person would I have turned out to be if my parents had separated in an ugly divorce? If my dad alienated me and hated everything I did and my mom was never home? Would I have closed people off and refused to let anyone in?

It makes sense, what Jade has done her whole life. Kept herself protected. It was her only defense mechanism and, somehow, Beck found the chink in her armor, wiggled inside. And though I'm sure it kills him to know it, blew her up from the inside.

My parents retire around ten. I read a little for my English class and try to slave through a few math problems, but my eyes keep darting eagerly to the clock. An hour and a half. An hour. I'm not sure what I'm expecting, exactly, but I know midnight means Sunday, and Sunday means I can talk to Jade. The break is over. We can be together again.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Just because I have admitted having a real crush on Jade doesn't mean anything. We're still just friends. That's all we can be.

Right now, my mind tacks on.

At fifteen minutes to midnight, I'm gripping my phone and pacing around the width of my room. I picture Jade – poise, collected, maybe even asleep. It's entirely possible that I have fabricated the whole idea that Jade is having just as hard of a time as I am being away from her for so long. I'm done denying that being with her makes me happy, that I'd give anything to be with her right now. I can only hope that she feels the same way, that she's missed me as much as I've missed her, and that she'll be waiting for contact as soon as the day changes.

I watch each minute tick off on my phone, my foot bouncing off the floor.

11:59. I hold my breath until it rolls over to midnight, to Sunday, and before I can press the first number, there's an incoming call.

"Jade!" I say too loudly into the phone, but I don't care.

There's a lightness to her tone that I've only heard a handful of times since I've met her. "Hey, Vega. I take it you missed me."

"Like you weren't mourning my absence every second today."

"Yeah." She's laughing, but there's a certain sincerity to her voice. "You should come over."

"Now?"

"Yes."

I only think about it briefly. Then, I'm up on my feet and grabbing a bag, stuffing pajamas into it. "You're a terrible influence on me, Jade West."

"What are friends for?" She laughs, the sound sending my heart into a frenzy.

She hangs up and I'm making my way to my bedroom door.


	15. Chapter 15

**_|Jade|_ **

The day has been so shitty and long and hard that I don't even try to hold back when Tori comes through my front door. It's a little later than I expected, but I don't care, throwing my arms around her neck and crushing her in a hug. It seems dramatic – it's only been a day, for Christ's sake, but even so, seeing her in her rumpled jeans and her hair all tossed up, expression delighted, I can't stop myself from squeezing her harder.

"Did you walk here? I just about sent out a search party."

We separate and I can see Tori's face flush. "I had to ask my mom."

I roll my eyes at her, taking her backpack from her hand and walking down the hallways toward the door that leads to my basement. "You're not supposed to ask permission to sneak out. That's why it's called sneaking out."

"I don't sneak out," she replies. "It took some convincing, but I eventually told her that you had called and asked me to come over."

"That's not even a lie, Vega. Can you lie to your parents?"

"I might have exaggerated your … enthusiasm. A little."

I turn over my shoulder. "You told your mom I was a hysterical, sobbing mess, didn't you?"

Tori's lips perk. "See? I can lie."

I make a face at her. Honestly, I don't care what she told her mom. It worked. She's here. I stop at the door that winds down to my room. I look at her again. She's waiting, excited, and I wonder if she's been looking forward to this moment. It seems stupid, I know, but the only people who have been in my room are my parents and Beck. My room is a very private place to me, something very few people get to see. For a reason. Letting them bear witness to my freakish collections, absurd knick-knacks, and other questionable possessions means I'm breaking down another wall.

I take a deep breath. She smiles and it calms me somehow. I twist the door handle and drop down the steps. The light is on, but with no windows down here, the room always seems dark somehow. Like a tomb. I've always liked it that way.

I try not to care, but I'm watching her reaction. She closes the door behind her and puts her back to it. Brown eyes float around the shelves on my walls, the paintings. Slowly, her face passive, she approaches a jar with a mouse fetus floating inside. She taps the glass with a fingernail.

"It's real," I tell her before she asks. She doesn't shrink away – in fact, she bends slightly to get a better look.

Finally, she straightens, spins, and smiles at me. Something in me that I didn't know had tensed up relaxes, a coil of wire being unwound. She doesn't comment at all on my room which makes me feel better. I didn't want verbal confirmation that my room was fine. I just needed her to not run away.

Gliding to the bag I dropped at the door, she starts pulling out pajamas. "So, how did you entertain yourself today?"

I sit on my computer chair and try not to make a show of watching her undress. Her legs are bronze and glowing. Dark hair tumbles down her shoulders when she shakes it out of her hair tie. I watch as she shimmies into a pair of sweats. I find myself wishing she'd change her shirt, too, but she seems to be planning on sleeping in the tank-top she's wearing.

I try to ignore that I want to see more of her.

"Lots of TV." It's true. I did little more than rise from the couch today. Mom was there in the morning, talking into her headset the whole time about some conference she had to go to. She eyed me suspiciously before she left but didn't ask. It occurs to me that I don't even think she knows Beck and I broke up yet.

Mother of the year, right there. Clearly.

What I don't tell Tori, though, is how tortured I was all day. The TV was a terrible distraction to what my brain was doing. All I could think about was Tori and how I'd be having a much better time if she was there with me, that the idea of a break was stupid. I almost caved in a couple of times. I don't care about whatever feelings that may or may not be coming to light. And it wasn't that I just didn't want to be alone. I wanted to be with Tori. Her company was the only one I needed. It was like having an itch I couldn't scratch and sitting in the irritation that accompanied her absence isn't something I think I could endure in the long term.

Whatever comes with that – I'll cross when that bridge comes. I'll figure it out then.

"I hung out with Andre for a little bit, then had smoothies with Cat, but …" She twists her hands and sits on the edge of my bed, smiling with an almost embarrassed expression. Her hands rise and slap against her thighs. "I love them both and it's not that I don't like hanging out with them, I just …" She looks at me. Our eyes slide together like dead bolts. "I just wanted you."

My heart stutters. Lips parting, I feel my chest collapse and struggle to rise again. Tori's blushing, clearing her throat and tangling her fingers in the depths of her hair.

Something unleashes in my stomach. It's too big to be butterflies – too fast, too powerful. Airplanes. Jets. Space shuttles.

I notice that she's muffling a yawn behind her wrist. I sit up, my elbows on my spread knees. "You could've stayed home and slept, Tori. You didn't have to come over."

She shakes her head, smiling as she pats the space beside her. I stand, crossing the room and tucking one leg beneath me as I sit beside her. Without much warning, she leans her head on my shoulder and sighs. I'm frozen for a moment, staring down at her hair. My throat tenses, closes, and I can't swallow – what do I do? What am I supposed to do?

My hand settles in the middle of her spine. She relaxes a breath and though I can't see it, I know that she's smiling.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be." She tilts her head and meets my eyes. Grinning, she leans back again, scooting along my bed and plopping in the middle. I crawl after her and lie on my side, head propped on my palm as we slide into easy conversation. It's effortless with her. I don't have to try or force anything. I don't even think about it much. More than once we fall into loud fits of laughter and I'm grateful my house is huge and empty and my mom isn't home because that makes this all the more private, intimate.

The word tacks itself onto the end of my thoughts before I can help it. It startles me for a moment, but I cover it up easily. I'm not an actress for nothing.

"I apologized to Beck today." When she sees my confused expression, she quickly continues. "For, you know, being mean to him. I don't think I was treating him very fairly."

"Do you think pouring juice on his head was too much?"

She shrugs. "At the time? No. I think he deserved that much, after telling lies about you. He feels awful about it, though. He just wants you to talk to him." Her face is earnest. "I really believe he wants to be friends with you, Jade."

My head falls back on the mattress. I stare at the ceiling, lips pursed, before giving a shake of my head. "I don't know if I can do that. If I ever will be able to do that. You don't –" I hate using this as an excuse, but it's true, so I continue. "You don't know what it's like to have someone you're completely in love with betray you like that. To … to have them look you in the eye and break your heart." I twist and look up at her. She's frowning. "I'm not saying that to alienate you. It's a legitimate argument."

"I know." She spreads her hands and slowly closes them. "I don't understand why he broke up with you. Not fully. You're amazing and funny and honest and beauti-" She stops, takes another breath, and tries again. "But that doesn't make him a bad guy. He shouldn't have lied about it, he shouldn't have expected you to be best friends a week after the fact, but he's … you know Beck better than anyone, Jade. You know he hates hurting anyone, especially you."

I swallow. I manage to push away the urge to cry, which is saying something, considering the howling mess I was last night. I sit in silence for a while, thinking, when Tori suddenly gasps and pushes across the mattress. Moving myself up on my elbows, I peer over her shoulder. "What?"

"Is that a pocketknife under your pillow?"

Sure enough, protruding from the corner of the pillow is the white-bone handle of my pocketknife. I laugh, raising an arm and reaching across her stomach to pluck it from the mattress. With slight pressure on a fold of metal, the blade swings out, slick sliver glinting at the tip. "For protection. We were robbed once."

Tori's face tightens in sympathy panic. "What? Really?"

"Yeah. I was twelve, I think. Mom was working and usually I would have been home by myself, but it was the day of the week that a cleaning lady would come over and do the shit my mom wasn't around to take care of." I press the tip of the knife against the pad of my finger and twirl it slowly. "He came in through an unlocked window in the kitchen. I was in the piano room and didn't hear anything, but all of the sudden the cleaning lady comes running in there, grabbing me. I told her to fuck off, don't touch me, blah blah, but that lady had fingers like goddamn steel. She pulled me into the hall closet and covered my mouth and it wasn't until I heard the guy struggling with our TV that I realized what was going on. The cleaning lady – I never learned her name – had the police on the phone by then. They got there before the robber even got out the door." I press the point of the knife a little harder on my finger as the next words come out of my mouth. "My mom blamed the cleaning lady for not locking the windows. Fired her. She installed a security system the next day. Didn't even check if I was okay or anything. I didn't sleep well for months. Kept imagining him slipping into my room, trying to steal me instead." I swing the knife toward the ceiling. "That's when I moved down here. No windows, and I can lock that door whenever I want."

"Jade."

I blink, turning to look at her. Her hand has closed over the handle of the knife. I look to my finger, finding a dark dot of blood swelling to the surface. I curse, shoving the injured phalange into my mouth. I remove it only for it to swell faster, sliding down the length of my finger.

"Do you have bandaids down here?"

I put my finger in my mouth again and wave toward the bathroom branching from my room. She takes off. I can hear her rummaging for a minute or so before she returns. Sitting in front of me again, she pulls a small bandaid from the box and strips the stickers away, placing the padded middle on top of the little cut before wrapping it securely around my finger. She takes the knife then, putting the blade back into the handle and setting it carefully on my bedside table.

"I don't think you'll need that tonight." Tori smiles and tries to close off another yawn, but it rips through her anyway. I smile, standing up and going across the room. I slap the lights off, which automatically causes both the black light on one wall and the circular neon sign in the shape of a toxic symbol to start glowing. Tori grins.

I crawl into bed beside her. We lay close together, on our sides, face to face. The purplish glow from the black lights makes her lashes look darker, the glimpse of teeth a startling shade of white. She looks fragile and innocent and I have this insane urge to touch her, to brush back the wisps of dark hair from her forehead.

So I do. I don't think about it, don't let it linger in my mind long enough to talk myself out of it. Her eyelids flutter when my fingertips graze her temple and I'm hot – everywhere, fire licking from my feet to my neck. She opens her eyes again. In the dark, she has no irises, just two wide, curious pupils.

"Tori?"

"Yeah?"

I smile, even though my insides are quivering. My hand lands beside my cheek and I shut my eyes. "I think you're my best friend."

Again, I don't see her smile, but I can feel it. Her fingers land on top of mine.

We fall asleep holding hands.


	16. Chapter 16

**_|Tori|_ **

When my eyes flutter open, the first thing I see is a skull from some sort of small animal staring back at me with hollow eyes. It does me well with shocking the fatigue out of my system, but I don't panic or scream. With consciousness comes recollection, and with that comes driving to Jade's house at midnight, laughing on her bed, wrapping her finger with a bandaid, and – I lift my head and turn it. Jade is still on her side, her usually tense face lax with sleep, her hand beneath mine. I smile goofily, running my pinky over one of her fingers before I carefully move out of her bed.

Tip-toeing toward my bag, I pull out clean clothes and move back into her bathroom. It's a nice bathroom – everything in Jade's house is nice – but it's got Jade's particular sense of interior design to make it unique. The handles on the sink are molded like serpents. The mirror is framed with a string of lights shaped like spiders, and the shower curtain has fake blood smeared over it. I smile, peeling away my pajamas and turning her shower on.

The water feels marvelous. I lather my hair with her shampoo, the scent that I so strongly associate with her filling the room. I breathe it in along with the steam, releasing a slight sigh.

While I rinse my hair, I think of Jade – no surprise there, really – the way she was last night, the way she looked this morning. I smile, feeling the shampoo slide down my back. I've always known Jade was pretty, but when I really look at her, it's startling how really gorgeous she is. Her eyes remind me of grass just before spring comes; dark, heavy, flecked with golden brown. The silver stud in her eyebrow that rides along every expression she has, her lips, a soft pink, and the curves of her sides and hips, legs, hands and stomach and breasts and –

I don't realize I'm doing it until my hand yanks back so quickly, I almost slap myself in the face. My cheeks start to sizzle and it's not from the temperature of the water. I hurry up then, slamming the water off as soon as the soap stops streaming down my body. I step out, rummaging beneath her sink for a clean towel and patting myself down. I'm still throbbing something awful and hot between my legs, so I carefully avoid that area with the towel, focusing instead on drying my arms and legs and hair. I pull on my clothes and take a minute to breathe, hands braced on the sink, staring at my fogged reflection in the mirror.

When I feel more composed and less embarrassed about what I almost did in Jade's shower – Jade's shower of all places! – I emerge. Jade is awake, sitting in front her computer. She spins to face me, and her smiling, sleepy expression sends my heart into a frantic dance. I feel on fire again. I smile, reminding myself that I'm an actress and concealing emotions are supposed to be my talent, but it almost feels like lying to her, and I can't do that. I grab my brush from my bag and glide it through my hair.

"Last Sunday, I took you to Jolly Days." I smirk at her, feeling a little more comfortable now that I'm not naked and slick wet. "How are you going to top that?"

Jade is smiling, too. She stands, swaying over toward me, and I swear she's swinging her hips like that on purpose. Stopping just before she runs into me, she taps the tip of my nose with her bandaged finger. "Hollywood is a big place with lots of strange things to offer."

Her tone sets me on edge. "Jade, if you're taking me to a morgue or something –"

She laughs, but doesn't correct me. Spinning on her heel, she disappears into her shower, still chuckling.

I take the time she's away to examine her room more closely. There's a collection of skeletons and fossils, as well as the more odd things, like the mouse fetus floating in the jar, the fatty lump I remember her asking for at the hospital when Robbie got sick. There's snakeskin and an ant farm, bird feathers, a 3-D model of a set of teeth that I've seen in dentists' offices before. The paintings – which I'm not sure belong to her or not – depict images of men turning into beasts, demons spewing from a crater in the earth, a little girl holding a doll with no head. But among the strangeness are more normal things – picture frames. Tucked behind a glass skull with a candle coming from the top is a picture of a younger Jade with her parents on either side of her. A couple others show her standing with stage crews, her standing beside TV stars and famous singers. One makes me stop and pick it up to see it closer; it's from a dance we had last year. I recognize Jade's lavender dress. Beck's arm is wound around her waist. They're both smiling. I wonder who took the picture only to blink when the memory comes swimming back – I took this picture. I remember Beck pushing the camera into my hands, laughing, the music nearly drowning out his requests to take the photo. I was anxious to get back on the dance floor, snapping the picture quickly and taking off. Now that I focus, though, I can recall hearing Jade laugh freely and openly, her hand on Beck's chest, and I realize that that was one of the few times I ever saw her truly happy.

I don't hear her approach, so when I suddenly feel exhaled breath on my shoulder, I jump so hard I nearly drop the frame. Her eyes aren't on me, though, fixated instead on the image. I swallow, putting it on the shelf and turning to face her. She's in jeans and a tight blue shirt that doesn't help my sudden staring problem whatsoever. She shrugs on a vest and buttons it, still not saying anything.

"So?" I break the silence even though I can tell Jade has teleported to a different place and time. My voice brings her back, eyes shifting to me. "Where are we going?"

Her eyes take some time to refocus, but soon she smiles, albeit more faintly than before. Glancing once more at the picture, she says, "A place I used to go to when I was a kid."

I raise my eyebrows. That's what I had done last week – Jolly Days had been the highlight of the year for me when I was younger. I feel almost honored to have her trust me with a childhood memory. I don't push for a more direct answer, wanting it to be a surprise. We do our hair and make-up in the bathroom with the radio playing, bumping hips and laughing. She leads me up the stairs when we're ready, swiping her keys from the counter and making her way through the living room when she suddenly stops. I almost run into her, freezing when I notice the tension in her neck. I look over her shoulder.

A woman with long, straight dark hair is sitting in the middle of the couch. The TV is on but she's not watching it, spreading papers all over the coffee table. I can tell even from her profile that she's Jade's mother – she has the same nose – but when she turns to look at us, the resemblance is uncanny. Her eyes, just slightly lighter than her daughter's, jumps from Jade to me. She blinks in considerable surprise, dropping a piece of paper.

"Hello."

Jade's legs move stiffly. She nods toward me. "This is Tori."

I raise a hand. I'm good with parents. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. West."

The woman smiles thinly. "Call me Jasmine. I was wondering whose car was outside when I got back last night." She turns back to Jade. "Going out?"

Jade spins to face her mother again. The two stare at each other in silence, but something akin to electricity shocks the air between them. I swallow and jump in before the silence can stretch too long. "We're just going to hang out for a few hours. I won't keep her all day, promise."

Ms. West – I can't bring myself to think of her as Jasmine – turns her eyes back to me. She smiles again, about to say something, only for her hand to fly up to the headset she has on the other ear. "What?" She faces her papers again. "Damnit, Paula, I told you four thirty –"

Jade motions me forward. I hurry after her and out the door, marching down to her car. She doesn't say anything until we're pulling away.

"My dad used to call her Jazz." It seems out of the blue, but I realize her thoughts were probably far away. "She used to call me Gem – you know, jade. The precious stone." Her knuckles pop around the steering wheel. "She hasn't called me anything – not Gem, not Jade, nothing – since my dad moved out. Just 'you'."

I never realized just how much anger was pent up in her until now. It's right there, threatening to erupt, just beneath the surface. I reach across the space between us and settle my hand on her thigh. It takes her a few minutes to fully relax. We stop at McDonalds to grab some breakfast food – I get two burritos, she gets a McMuffin – and we eat it in the parking lot, drinking orange juice. We sing along to her radio and talk lightly, allowing the tension of the moment beyond us to melt away. By the time we leave, I feel much better and less like I'm in the presence of a volcano and more like a pot of boiling water with the temperature turned down.

She teases me about the destination for a few miles, and then begs me to cover my eyes. I can't bring myself to say no, so I sink in my seat and plant my palms over my eyes. More than once I attempt to peek, only for her to punch me so hard in the knee, I'm sure I'm going to bruise.

After accusing her of abuse, the car stops. I try to peek again, but Jade has leaned across the seat and planted her hand over mine, keeping my vision black. Her lips are dangerously close to my ear – so close, I can feel the very edges of her lips on my earlobe.

"Don't move."

And then she's gone. Her door opens and shuts. Moments later, mine is yanked open as well. Her hand takes one of mine, the other covering both of my eyes as I stand. She shuts the door and locks them with her keychain. After a few moments of silence, I say, "Well?"

"Promise you won't laugh."

My body reacts to the word physically, the slight hitch of my lungs causing my sentence to come out quietly. I keep my hand firmly over my eyes. "I thought you didn't like it when people made promises."

Silence. Then, her hand squeezing mine. "Promise."

I try not to smile too hard. "Okay. I promise."

"Look."

My hand drops. We're in the parking lot beside the building, but there's a sign on this side – The Human Body: From The Inside Out. I grin. I've never been here, but I remember Trina's class got to take a field trip to this museum once in middle school and my grade never got a chance. It's meant for younger kids, but I don't care. I turn to Jade and loop my arm around hers, tugging her toward the entrance.

"You don't think it's stupid?"

I whip my head at her at the tone – she was genuinely concerned that I would mock her for this. Her eyebrows are struggling between surprise and suspicion. I stop, holding her by the shoulders. "Jade, nothing about you is stupid."

The words pluck a smile out of her. She allows me to take her arm again as we walk through the glass doors. Admission is free for kids, but we have to pay for a ticket. For the experience, though, it isn't all that expensive. The museum is circular. You can start from either the head or the feet at the beginning and wind your way towards the middle. Jade and I begin at the brain. Never releasing her, we walk through the purple and red tinted room, listening to a voice talk about different sections about the brain and how it works. We're able to stick our hands through a hole in the wall that allows us to touch a goopy substance meant to feel like brains. The walls give faint blips of light and zapping sounds, simulating the currents that run through our skulls. As we move through the eyes, nose, and mouth, Jade tells me about how this was her favorite place to visit when she was a kid. Every birthday up until her parents split, this is where she wanted to go. She'd spend hours in each room. Her dream job was to work in it one day. I listen intently, absorbing every word she says, as we feel and smell and even taste our way through the human body. We spend a long time in the stomach, jumping on a small pad of foam that makes burping noises. It makes both of us laugh until there are tears in our eyes. We follow the large hallways of major arteries, the smaller, more narrow ones that represent veins. We carve our initials into a room made entirely of bone – Jade can find a few of her old signatures among the thousands of names – and weave our way through the twists and turns of the intestines. A few children are here and there, but it's early for any major crowds of people, and it's Sunday. For the most part, we're alone, and it's just Jade telling me stories – how her dad used to play hide and seek with her while her mom recorded it on her camera, even though filming wasn't allowed. She speaks of the old version of her mother fondly – that mom had been fearless, full of love, energy and life. I can't picture the work-driven woman on the couch, swearing into her phone, being the same woman who chased her husband and daughter through The Human Body. We sit on top of constructed knee caps that wobble back and forth, watch a short clip about muscle cramps in the legs, and walk on ten large toes.

Jade's favorite part of the museum she has saved for last – the Heart Room. We have gone from locked arms to holding hands by now, her fingers hot and squeezing mine as she leads me in. The first thing I notice is the sound – a steady, heavy heartbeat. It fills the room like a womb. The walls are purple and red and seem to be moving, pushing in and out. A pulse.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

The room is empty other than drawings and models on the wall, relatively simple compared to the others. I assume that the sounds and the moving walls are designed to be the main attraction, and they certainly are. Jade puts my hand against one wall to feel it move against my palm. The sensation strikes me frozen. I close my eyes and listen to my own heartbeat, aligning with the one I now stand in. I can't tell if the blood I hear rushing in my ears is mine or not.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

The heart is such a twisted, complicated organ, with different pockets and caverns and tubes moving in and out, but its operation is so simple. Pump in, pump out. Over and over. Of all of our organs, it has the most simple instruction. And yet it is the one that hurts the most, suffers the most, and is most often at war with our brain. Through all of that, though, it keeps beating. It's always beating.

I don't feel Jade beside me. I open my eyes and turn to find her standing in the center of the room. Her eyes are closed, her head is back. Black hair trickles down her spine.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

I come up from behind her. My hands rest on her hips, her head on my shoulder, and we stand in the center of that heart for a long time. My own beats against her back. I can see her pulse in her neck, wild and hard. The goosebumps on my arms seem permanent. I smell and feel and see her body in front of mine. She has all the same parts I do, the same bones and veins, hands and feet and eyes, tongues and lips, flesh and hearts.

From the inside out, the sign had said.

Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

It's the entrance of several noisy children that causes us to snap out of our trance. Jade blinks, glaring at the children before finding my hand and leading me out of the body part of the museum. We open into a gift shop, complete with models of organs and fake teeth strung on necklaces. I buy a charm bracelet, but only one charm – a silver, anatomically correct heart. Jade smirks as I purchase it and slide it over my wrist. She connects it for me, her bandaged finger holding the heart for a moment before it falls against my pulse.

My mom calls as soon as we exit the museum. She's mad that I didn't text her when I arrived at Jade's – I forgot I had told her I would, to make sure she knew I got there safely – and haven't called her all day today. My mom isn't one to force me to do anything, but I know going home would be best after ticking her off. I don't want to risk any major punishment with her. Jade drives me back to her house, our hands still joined. I blush when I notice, though I don't mention it. When we get back to the large house, Jade's mom is gone. I grab my bag and walk back to my car with Jade beside me. She stands close – so, so close, while I lean my back against the car.

"Thanks for coming with me today," she says. Her eyes are down when she talks. "I had … fun."

"Jade West, having fun."

"Must be a sign of the apocalypse."

"Surely."

We smile at each other. I reach for the door handle only to hesitate, turning to look at her again. "Jade? Are … are we dating?"

Jade's throat struggles. She looks at her feet, at my mouth, at my car. She steps back and crosses her arms. "I don't - I can't – I can't, Tori. Not yet. Not this soon."

I wish I could eat my words. I shake my head. "Of course. Yeah, I know. I didn't – right." I open my door and toss my bag inside, dropping in front of my steering wheel. Jade's hand grabs my door before I can close it, though. I stop, cheeks red, eyes on the floor of my car.

"I have to deal with Beck and this break-up before I do anything, Tori. But once I'm in my right mind again, and all of this shit with Beck blows over …" She pauses so long, I look up, meeting her green eyes. "Just, don't – don't give up on me."

I twitch a smile at her, shoving my key in the ignition and letting the car grumble to life. "You're stuck with me for life, West."

Jade smiles, but there's something in her expression that reminds me of a mask with a crack in it. Andre's song floats back to me – if you want me to take it off, all you have to do is ask – and I wonder if Jade would ever want me to do that.

"Promise?" Jade's eyebrows rise carefully.

It's the second time today she's asked me to promise her something. How many people has she allowed to do that? Her parents, a long time ago? Only Beck since then? All of them had been unable to keep whatever promises they made.

I refuse to be another person to let her down.

"Promise," I assure her, and with a wave, I pull out of her house and drive away.

Her house shrinks in my rear view mirror. The heart on my wrist beats against the steering wheel, as if keeping time, and I decide I'll wait. Jade's heart, from the inside out, is worth it.


	17. Chapter 17

**_|Jade|_ **

I thought things would be awkward on the Monday morning after the trip (date?) to the museum, but Tori has an uncanny ability at smoothing things over. She greeted me with the same cheeriness as always. There were new developments, though, that were so subtle I hardly noticed them at first – her fingers balancing on my wrist when we stood beside each other, her grinning at me as she fixed supposedly 'stray strands' of my hair, holding out pieces of her lunch for me to take a bite out of – it took me nearly a week of these small, minute details to realize what she was doing.

She was letting me know that she's not losing interest, that she's willing to wait for me.

At first, the realization was comforting, a warm coal in my chest. It's reassuring to know that Tori takes me and all of the baggage that comes tied to my person. At the same time, though, it's terrifying, and I found myself declining offers to hang out after school, to spend the night at her house the weekend following the visit to The Human Body. It's not that I don't want to be around her – it's exactly for that reason. I'm slowly becoming aware of the gravity of my situation. Recently broken up, pouring my trust and faith into a person I didn't even really like up until recently, allowing that person to know such private and intimate and guarded parts of me. My parents, the robbery, my collections, less significant details like my favorite scents and jewelry and musicians – all of these things that I have kept from other people that I am so carelessly tossing into Tori's hands is starting to get to me. What if I'm moving too quickly? What if I really am using Tori as a rebound?

The idea makes me sick. I like Tori. I really like Tori, and I don't want her to be the closest, nicest person that I could take advantage of, but what kind of person was I before Beck broke up with me? Exactlythe kind that would, if it was convenient, take advantage of people. More than once I used Tori to benefit myself. I got her to find a source of money for the play I put on last year. When my car was getting fixed, I would simply drop myself into hers, silently forcing her to take me home. I guilt tripped her into fixing things between Beck and I when we broke up (for a whopping two days) – and she wasn't the only one I used. Robbie, Andre, Cat, even Trina a few times – I didn't discriminate. If I could use them, and I felt like it, I never felt bad about it.

But I don't want to use Tori and it's frustrating beyond what I can bear to know that I can't even tell the difference anymore. I don't know if I'm using Tori to make myself feel better, to get me through the break up because I can't admit that I'm too weak to handle it by myself.

I test the theory as much as I can. I won't be the first to text her. I'll go a whole Saturday afternoon without a call. Sometimes I get the idea that she's doing the same thing, or at least trying to prove that she's willing to give me as much space as I decide I need. But the more I try and tell myself that I don't need or want to talk to her every day, the more evidence there is that it's true. By Saturday evenings, I'm calling her and spending a couple of hours talking and laughing. Sundays turn into days reserved for one another. The Sunday after The Human Body, Tori packs a picnic basket – I didn't even now those things were actually sold – and we sit atop a hill at a park not too far from her house. We were there for hours, until the sun dipped into the pale pink sky, taking pictures with our phones. The next week we see a movie and eat at a pizza parlor. And all the while there's this persistent battle in me, this vicious tug of war that I'm playing with myself. I need her. I don't need her. She's just my friend. She's definitely not just my friend. We're not dating. We're dating.

Those two weeks are filled with restless, sleepless nights. What I notice, though, is that Tori seems to be struggling just as much as I am. She looks tired and worn out, like she's fighting, too. And while we do make teasing remarks toward one another – wow, West, you must really like me if you're going to hug me that long – we don't talk about it directly. I know I don't know how, but I'm not sure about her. I just think she doesn't want to scare me away with any pushing.

On a seemingly unimportant Friday, I wake up with the sudden knowledge that it's been four weeks - an entire month – since Beck broke up with me. I lay in bed for a while simply processing that fact. I still haven't spoken to him since that day in Lane's office. He must have finally understood that if and when I decide to ever speak to him again, it will be on my own terms. At the moment, with my life so scattered and filled with so much Tori, I honestly have no urge to talk to him. I have nothing to say. Seeing him only makes me ache inside. The wound he inflicted on me that night at the coffee shop is still healing, and I don't want to risk ripping it open and making it raw again.

While I'm doing my hair, my phone goes off. I'm already smiling when I go to scoop it up. Of course, it's a text from Tori. She exclaims in capital letters and many scattered angry faces that Trina had taken three of her favorite shirts and tried to sew them together to make a new garment – without Tori's permission – and ended up making a hideous, oversized shawl. I laugh, texting her back with a single smiley face as I make my way upstairs.

Sounds from the kitchen make me stop. I freeze, listening. The same icy, paralyzing fear that strikes me whenever I hear foreign sounds in my house plagues me from the inside out, but then I hear my mother's voice. She must be grabbing something to eat. I slowly unlock my body. I'm not at all accustomed to my mom ever being here. She sleeps and leaves. We don't interact. We're strangers now. Still, curious to see my mom in the kitchen for the first time since I was a kid, I duck into the room and watch my mom, her back to me, scooping some cereal into her mouth. I didn't even know we had cereal.

I plan on just peeking and stepping out again, but my mom whips around to put the milk back in the fridge and sees me standing in the threshold. She stops, eyeing me, her hand rising to close over the microphone end of her headset. "Hey."

It's a stale greeting, but I take it with a curt nod. I start to leave, only for her to say sharply. "Wait."

The insane urge to swear at her swells in my throat. I force it down and decide to humor her, cutting my eyes across the space between us and chopping right back, "What?"

My mom is a pretty woman, but all of the work she does has carved lines around her eyes and forehead prematurely. She yanks the headset down. "I've been meaning to ask you why I haven't seen Beck lately."

I blink slowly. It's a wonder she even knew who Beck was. I can probably count on one hand the amount of times they interacted in the almost three year span I was with him. If anything, she saw his car in the driveway, or saw that I wasn't home and knew that I only ever spent nights with Beck, and when I bought a nice new dress, she was conclusive enough to know that I was doing something fancy with my boyfriend. Enough time has elapsed for her to notice, apparently, that all the usual signs of Beck haven't been there.

I'm impressed that she picked up on it, to be frank. Which is really sad if you think about it.

"He broke up with me. A month ago," I emphasize. "I told you on the phone. Remember?"

Something passes through her features that I can't read exactly. Confusion and surprise, as well as … embarrassment?

"Oh. Right. I've been busy." As if that is somehow justification for forgetting something that is - was - so obviously important to me. She coughs. I can hear the distant babbling of a voice she's ignoring in her headset. This is the first time since before the divorce that she has chosen a conversation with me over her work. "I'm sorry to hear that. He was a nice kid."

My eyes narrow. "Yeah. A real catch," I say dryly, turning to leave. I'm almost to the door when I hear her following behind me. I glare at her over my shoulder which stops her, hand still wrapped around the mic of her headset, though the speaker side is placed over her ear again.

"You've been spending a lot of time with that Laurie girl."

"Tori," I correct her, and then frown at how quick I was to do so. How dare she get her name wrong. How dare she even remember Tori. They met so briefly, I figured she'd forget about it. Maybe it was because Tori was the first person in my house that wasn't Beck. Perhaps that made her stick out in my mom's crowded memory. "It is nice to hang out with someone who enjoys my company."

Mom's immediately on the defensive. I inherited that from her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I shoot right back. "What do you think?"

We stand there, tense and poised like two lionesses about to strike. I wonder, briefly, who would win in a physical fight. After flicking my eyes over her thin, light figure, I decide I would.

"All I'm saying," she says, her jaw barely moving it's so tightly locked. "Is that you'd better watch yourself with this girl. Think of the career you're shooting for."

I wasn't prepared for her words. My angry front shatters, replaced with complete surprise. My mom is gone, though, disappearing down the hall and into the kitchen, leaving me standing there with my jaw slack. Gripping my keys in my slick palm, I slam out of the house and charge toward my car.

What did she mean, watch yourself? What was I doing that she even knew about? Think of my career?

I'm halfway to school when I realize what she was saying. It was a warning, almost a threat, that she at least had a suspicion that all of the time I was spending with Tori – time I usually wasted with Beck – meant more than friendship.

My mom is smart. Cunning, even. She always has been. And when my parents first started fighting, just before and right after the divorce, she developed the ability to find what hurt the worse and twist it until you cried mercy.

She's found my sole insecurity at the moment; my feelings for Tori. I don't even think she knew for sure if it was true, but she definitely knows now. I've given her a weapon by not being careful.

I pull into school, but don't get out. I squeeze the steering wheel and swallow screams in my throat. I shouldn't care. I know that. My mom hasn't mattered to me for nearly ten years and she shouldn't start being important now. Her words, though, stick to my skin like tar as I storm into the school and toward my locker.

Class has already started. There's only a few stragglers in the hall when I wind my way through the halls. I check my phone – Tori has texted me twice. Once in response to my smiley face that I almost forgot I sent, the next asking me where I was. I push into Sikowitz's class without an explanation, dropping into the nearest empty desk in the back of the room and crossing my arms. I feel eyes on me – Tori's, surely, but I don't look away from the board on the opposite wall for the duration of the class. I just fume in silence, squeezing my fists until they start to shake. I can't sort my thoughts. They come in colors – red and black – and sounds – punching and kicking. The only coherent sentence is this: I let her get under my skin.

I get even more pissed off when I can't figure out if I'm thinking about my mom or Tori.

I burst out of the room as soon as the bell rings. I have my next class with Tori, but I avoid her by weaving through unnecessary hallways until the last minute, ducking in again to sit in the back. She tries to get my attention several times, but I keep my head bowed over my book, and after a while, she gives up. The next class I'm glad I don't have to ignore her because she's not there, but my phone vibrates to signal a text. I don't have to look to know it's from her. Frowning, I check it.

What's wrong?

Not, why are you ignoring me or why are you being a bitch or what did I do to get the silent treatment – no. Tori's too selfless.

I send back, Mom, because it's true. With that, I turn my phone off and stuff it into my pocket, folding my arms across my chest and taking a deep breath. I don't want to talk to anyone, Tori least of all. It's irrational and stupid, but I almost want to blame her for what happened with my mom this morning. If I had never reached out, if we had never been friends, if I had just suffered alone when Beck broke up with me, then I wouldn't be suffering now.

I try to take notes. Half way through the class, my elbow knocks my calculator to the floor. Grunting, I dip to pick it up, but a hand beats me. I first notice hairy knuckles, and then an equally hairy wrist, and then I'm looking into a face I don't even recognize. He's a blonde, tall guy with a wide nose and a chin with a significant dip in the center. I try to think of a name. He smiles at me and slides the calculator onto my desk.

"Thanks." I say it as a reflex and blame it on Tori. Her manners are wearing off on me. That seems to make me more angry, so I slam back against my desk chair and stare at the board. Slowly, though, my eyes gravitate toward the guy next to me. An idea – a sick, repulsive idea that makes my stomach knot but is all too familiar with my brain – swells to the surface.

What kind of person was I before Beck broke up with me?

"What's your name again?" I lean sideways, my voice a whisper. The boy immediately directs his attention to me, smiling wide enough so I can see his teeth. He's not ugly. He's no Tori – Beck, I correct myself – but he's not ugly.

"Kyle Banks." He says it like he's telling me a much harbored secret. "You're Jade West."

I somehow don't roll my eyes. I recognize him, now. He played Gaston in Beauty and the Beast last year. His hair was dark then. "No one's as smart as Gaston," I say with a smile that I don't mean, but he seems to take it to heart. "Are you busy –" My throat catches, so I try again, passing the cut in my voice as a small cough, "Busy this weekend?"

Kyle swirls toward me and meets my eyes. He holds them in silence. I wonder how often he has done this with other girls. I wonder if it works on them. "I'm booked tomorrow for rehearsal, but Sunday is free."

Sunday. My day with Tori. Our unspoken agreement to always hang out, to do something fun and unique. Together. I almost back out right then, say forget it, you seem like a complete moron anyway, but I remember my mom standing in front of me, eyes nothing more than slits – watch yourself.

"We should hang out."

I don't know how he doesn't notice that I feel like throwing up. He takes my number and I take his, holding the paper between two shaking fingers. He says he'll call me Sunday afternoon to get directions to my house, and then take us out for some food. I smile and nod and turn back to my book, keeping my face neutral, but as soon as the class ends I'm running to the bathroom and hovering over the toilet, my throat burning.

She's under my skin, making me sick like an infection. All of the walls I've built are crumbling, letting in viruses, sensations I can't name. And I can only think of one person to blame – the person I ran to and trusted, who let me be vulnerable too much for too long, until all of my defenses were completely useless.

Just like Beck, who broke up with me with sad eyes, Tori has busted down the walls that kept me protected by touching, holding, hugging.


	18. Chapter 18

**_|Tori|_ **

"Smile, frowney face!"

I flinch, covering the ear Cat had just pierced straight to the eardrum. Turning toward her, I flash a quick and very unconvincing smile. "Happy?"

"No." Her mood pops like a balloon. She slumps forward, stabbing a thick piece of lettuce with her fork. The sun makes her red hair look as if it was set aflame. She frowns and makes a sullen face at me. "Grumpy?"

I stop. The ice in my veins isn't so much anger as it is hurt. It's lunchtime and Jade still hasn't so much as looked at me. I hovered by the doors that lead outside before I came out to the courtyard, but I was plagued with the feeling that she wasn't going to show. That, and Cat practically dragged me outside. Taking a deep breath, I reach out and touch Cat's shoulder. "I'm sorry." My hand slips to my lap again, the other rubbing at my forehead. "Jade's been avoiding me all day."

Cat waves my concern away. "It's Jade. She's moody."

I frown at the sandwich I haven't touched. I don't tell Cat she's wrong because, in a way, she isn't. Jade is moody and testy and standoffish, but only with them. She hasn't with me, not for a month. We've talked every day, hung out, been together more often than not, and been best friends. I wedge my thumb between my teeth. Jade has become my best friend so effortlessly, and everything with her is so easy and smooth that her pulling away all at once with the only explanation being 'Mom' puts me on edge. I know her relationship with her mother is virtually nonexistent, so what could she have done since Jade texted me a smiley face this morning that could have ruined her whole day?

Others have noticed our budding friendship, too. People stare as we stand at her locker and whisper and laugh, the memory of her treating me lower than dirt still very fresh in those halls. Some classmates have even directly questioned me about it, wondering what could have happened that would cause us to be friends. I don't really know how to explain it in simple enough terms, so I just shrug and tell them I'm not really sure.

As for Beck, our conversations have been pretty limited. He's given up on trying to approach Jade during school, and since I'm with her so often, we don't have a lot of time to converse. When he does get the chance, his concerns are with how Jade is doing, if she's getting better, how she looks happier every day. One time he thanked me for taking care of her when he couldn't and I couldn't help but muffle angry words in my throat; it's his fault she broke in the first place, but then I remember – if he hadn't, Jade and I would have never been anything but maybe frenemies, and even that is generous.

"There she is."

I immediately perk up, turning to see that, sure enough, Jade is emerging from the doors. Even over the chatter, the clicking of her black boots on the pavements is loud enough for me to hear. Her head is down, arms jabbed across her chest and squeezing on either side of her ribs. She looks like she's trying to keep herself together. I frown, starting to stand, an instinct that I have developed specifically for Jade – to protect her, to keep my promises – drives me forward. I'm only able to take one step toward her, though, when her green eyes slice toward me and root me to the ground. It's not a look she's given me in a month. It's one she reserves for someone she dislikes – someone she hates.

I falter. Jade rounds the table that Cat and I occupy and sits on the opposite side. I stare with my mouth hanging open as she shifts her blazing eyes to the tabletop. Slowly, and with my brain not entirely in control, I find my way back to my seat. I feel more than see Cat's eyes shifting slowly between us, her mouth trying to find the right words. My attention is on Jade, who apparently is insisting on saying nothing, doing nothing, but sit there.

"Uhm." I don't plan to say anything, but it comes out before I can stop it. With Jade's eyes once more cutting toward me, I feel the words building up. "Where've you been?"

It's an innocent question. Not even one that I really want the answer to. I just want her to stop looking at me like she wishes I would disappear.

"Are you my mother?"

The words are dripping with malice. I flinch back. A month ago, I wouldn't have even reacted to her tone, having been more than accustomed to it by then, but now it cuts something new and throbbing inside of me. This isn't the Jade that I have called my best friend for a month, not the girl I have, one day at a time, fallen more and more for. This is the girl who hated me for no reason – I know, she told me – and tried to destroy me for sport.

Maybe I was being naïve, even stupid to believe that that girl would never return, but here she is, staring me dead in the face as if she had never left.

Finally, I find my tongue again. Swallowing, I say, "No."

Cat leaps in. "I think she just meant that you haven't talked to anyone all day."

Jade's angry gaze resettles on Cat. I watch as Cat retracts, staring deep into her salad.

"I didn't come out here to be interrogated."

That strikes me hard. Jumping to Cat's defense, I put one hand on her arm and turn my eyes to Jade, trying to make my expression as mad as I can – I'm sure, though, that it only comes off as wounded. "What's your problem?"

Jade's tense lips falter, flickering into a frown before they press in a flat line again. She shakes her head. "Nothing." Screwing her arms more tightly across her chest, she sighs roughly. "Had a fight with my mom."

I start to loosen at the admission. Slipping my hand from Cat, I turn to Jade. "I'm sorry about that, but it isn't our fault."

Jade's expression falls further. She runs her hand through her hair and sighs again. "Yeah." Her eyes turn to Cat, who still hasn't looked up from her food. "Sorry, Cat."

I raise my eyebrows at her. She can't seem to hold my gaze, however, as her next apology is mumbled and spoken into her sleeve. I decide not to push it.

"I was thinking we could all hang out this weekend." I pat Cat's back. "We could see a movie or something. The three of us."

Cat peeks up at Jade, trying to decide if it's safe or not. Finally, she perks. "I've got rehearsal tomorrow, but Sunday would be fine!"

Jade makes a choking sound. I turn my eyes back to her, frowning as her pale hand flattens over her throat. "You okay?"

Jade doesn't reply. She looks away. "I'm busy Sunday."

It's my turn to frown. "I think we can include Cat, it's not a big deal –"

"Not with you." Jade's eyes level on me again. Once more, I'm struck frozen by the intensity of her eyes, green forests under heavy rain. "I have a date."

My mouth opens. Closes. Nothing comes out. My eyebrows dig over my nose. "Wh – what?"

"I have a date with Kyle Banks." She swallows – or tries to – but keeps her eyes carefully away from mine. "I need new atmosphere."

Cat makes some comment I don't hear about getting more salad dressing. All I know is that one minute she's there and the next, she's taking off, leaving Jade to stare off at the other end of the courtyard and me to gape at her. Seconds slug by in slow motion. Part of me wants to get up and walk away. Another, more weaker part wants to cry right in front of her. My next breath rips whatever Jade had started to cut into a wider, more open wound.

Eyes burning, throat tight, I manage, "Looks like you're over Beck, then."

Jade's eyelids flutter. I know her well enough to know she's fighting tears. Why? How could she be emotional when she had initiated a date?

I touch my chest as she turns to look at me. "This isn't about you," she snarls.

"Clearly." My voice is becoming strained. "It's about Kyle Banks, apparently. Wonder when you officially met him. Today?"

She shakes her head and leans back. Her face becomes stone, voice edged. "Do not talk to me like you're my jealous girlfriend."

The words bring out some sort of small sound of pain from my throat. Jade's eyes flick to me but dart away quickly.

I stand. "I don't know what happened with you and your mom this morning, but if it means you've taken up the lovely person you used to be permanently, then do not talk to me like I'm your anything." My words are vicious. I meet her eyes and hold them for a heartbeat before turning and marching toward the doors. The bell sounds as I re-enter the school, kids bustling in at my heels, though I walk directly to the bathroom and lock myself in a stall until the sound of parading feet dies down. I hold my chest and rock on the toilet, trying to breathe, to think, but all of my thoughts are scrambled and burned an angry red.

By the time I get to my next class, reason has tried to talk to me. Jade isn't herself. Her mom got to her. She's reacting out of anger, maybe even fear, and that her swallowing tears at the lunch table were proof enough that she didn't want to hurt me.

But she did.

I drive home feeling exhausted, washed out, and tired. I go straight to my room when I get home, even though my mom had positioned Trina at the door in order to apologize for ruining my shirt. I had already forgotten about it by then, not having the energy to neither accept nor decline the (not heartfelt) apology. Closing the door to my room, I curl up in my bed and shove my face beneath the pillow.

It wasn't three years' worth of feelings and days and dates and anniversaries to mourn over, but it was certainly long enough for me to have at least an idea of what Jade felt when Beck broke up with her. Except this is different because Jade and I were unspoken, a silent agreement, and she had severed it with a date with a boy she didn't even know and probably didn't even like. The voice of reason that had tried to talk me straight earlier is a distant, forgotten part of me, drowning, buried, and dead.

My phone rings a few times from my backpack, but I don't answer. I know it's not Jade, and I don't want to hear anyone else. I go downstairs to eat dinner, though I'm about as conversational as an empty chair. Both of my parents try at different times to bring me out of whatever funk I appear to be in, but neither are successful. I retire early and turn on the TV to try and numb out my brain.

I end up just lying there, though, for several hours, braiding and unbraiding my hair, thinking of Jade, getting mad at myself for thinking of Jade, wanting to call her, wanting to go to her house, to yell at her, to cry, to confront her mother and demand an explanation. But I don't do much of anything.

Around ten, I start to cry, and once the tears break through, it takes hours for them to stop. I'm hurt. I'm betrayed. I'm broken. She stabbed a knife in my back and twisted it, all while glaring at me like it was my fault, like I had driven her to do this.

I fall into some warped level of unconsciousness where Jade is hugging me and crying and telling me she hates me over and over.


	19. Chapter 19

**_|Jade|_ **

I don't feel like I've taken a proper breath since Friday morning.

I press a hand against my sternum and take a slow, deep, conscious breath. My lungs fill and expand. I let it out slowly through my nose. For good measure, I do it again, but even then I feel like I'm just scrabbling at the edges of breathing – living, really.

My fist smacks against the arm of the couch. This is stupid. This is so fucking dumb. If I want to go on a date, I can go on a date. With a boy. With a boy I literally just met. That's my prerogative. I can do that if I damn well want to and I shouldn't feel guilty about it just because my best friend – I swallow hard – has a problem with it. Big deal. I never lived my life before becoming friends with Tori, even when I was with Beck, according to someone else's feelings. It's not Tori's concern.

Chest deflating, my fist uncurls. Except it is. And it's really fucking frustrating that I can't even convince myself otherwise. I like Tori. She makes me happy. We have a good time together. She cares about me so much it's ridiculous and I can't even be grateful for that.

My mom's voice slithers through my ear and into my throat, making it constrict. Think of your career.

She's right. Of course she's right. The chances of an actress with a known history for questionable – I give a mental scoff – behavior such as running around dating girls are significantly lower than that of a pure sample. The bad girl look I have going on? Yes. The skills I've developed since I could talk? Yes. A girlfriend? Maybe not, and that is enough to stop me in my tracks and think.

All I have ever wanted was to be an actress. I want to shine. I don't care how unoriginal or cheesy or even desperate that sounds. It's what I'm good at. It's what I want.

My resolve loses more air when I realize that I'm good at Tori. With Tori. And I want her, too.

It's Sunday. By now, on a normal, happy week, I'd be with Tori. Even thinking her name makes me wince, arms crossing defensively as I sink against my couch. I'd be with Tori and we would be having fun somewhere – maybe taking a walk through a cemetery if it was my week to pick, or going bowling if it was hers. It wouldn't matter to me, honestly. It was never the event Tori and I embarked on when we had our Sundays together that I looked forward to. It was the company.

I look at my phone. Nothing. I hate to say that I kind of expected something from her by now – a text, at least – but I haven't gotten any interaction from anyone since Friday afternoon. Cat wouldn't even look at me, having adopted a weird, skittish kind of behavior in the classes we had proceeding that disaster of a lunch. I don't blame her, not with the way I was acting back there. I wince as I recall Tori's face, completely crumpled with pain she didn't know how to vocalize or express. It was like her body wasn't big enough for everything she was feeling and it was trying to burst from her eyes, her torn mouth. I rub the heel of my hand between my eyes and take a deep breath through my teeth.

Standing, I leave my rain cloud in the living room and march downstairs to my bathroom. I busy myself with curling my hair and reapplying my make-up in front of my mirror. I have a date to attend. Who knows? Maybe this Kyle Banks will turn into a great guy, someone I can get along with and tell my secrets too. Then, I'll have a normal, safe history and I won't have to worry about my future stopping before it even begins.

Beck is no longer an option. Tori shouldn't be. Kyle Banks – or a guy like him – could be.

I don't notice the burning in my eyes until I'm walking up the stairs. I stop, hovering in the doorway that leads to my room and take another deep breath, but I still feel like I'm drowning. No, drowning is too peaceful – strangling, maybe.

This is the smart choice, I remind myself. The safe one. The one that my mother would approve of.

My breath catches. My mother. My mother, this woman who has been nothing but a roommate at best since I was eight years old when my dad moved out. My mother, whose opinion has held the value of a pile of shit until now, who I know for certain stopped truly caring for me after I moved into the basement and we became separate entities.

Anger boils in my throat. Since when did I start holding her above myself? My teeth grit. Above Tori?

My pocket erupts with sound. I nearly drop it trying to tear it out, my heart throbbing hard in my ears, only for disappointment to run cold when I see Kyle's name blinking on the screen. Taking a deep breath, I answer. "Hey."

"Jade! It's Kyle."

I roll my eyes. "Gaston, you're still the smartest."

He laughs. "So, how about that address?"

I direct him quickly and hang up. I feel nauseous. My mother is an awful person, but she's still my mom. She's still smarter than me and has an idea of how the business I want to be a part of works. Maybe her warning was her way of trying to be motherly, to show that she still cares? I grunt in frustration, moving toward the door and looking out of the window at my empty driveway. There's also the problem of Tori only being a rebound. She was, after all, the very first person I fled to when Beck broke up with me. I put all of my feelings and trust into her, spent all of my time at her side, slept in her bed, held her hand, let her hug me as I cried. How could I not develop an attachment for her?

It's better this way, I tell myself firmly. At best, I'll fall madly in love with Kyle Banks and drastically simplify my life. At worst, I'll be alone forever. Either way, Tori won't have to deal with my indecisive, manipulative, and naturally cruel personality and I can save her for a lot more torment.

Something sleek and green slides up my driveway. Swiping my house key from the counter, I trudge out the door. Kyle looks huge in the tiny car, waving at me through the window. I plaster a smile on my face. I'm an actress, right? Faking my way through this should be easy.

His car smells like perfume. If the pink tree dangling from the rear view mirror and the particularly feminine sunglasses in the console between us are anything to go by, this car is probably his mom's. Which I don't really care about, except that Kyle seems to notice them as soon as I do and quickly stuffs the sunglasses out of sight, trying to make himself look better. There isn't much he can do about the air freshener, though, so he simply grits his teeth and pulls out of my driveway while talking loudly, like he can drown out the evidence with his voice. I do try to listen to him, honestly, but my eyes stray to the buildings flitting past my window and that just happens to be more interesting.

"So, Jade."

My name pulls my eyes back to him. He's wearing a gray t-shirt that's far too tight and jeans with one enormous hole in the right knee. His blonde hair is tousled with painful detail, probably shooting for the 'fresh out of bed' look and instead achieving 'I stood in front of the mirror for forty-five minutes'. If I saw this kid on the street, I probably wouldn't even look twice, but he just happened to stumble in at the right time. He's an opportunity. I have to take it.

"What made you want to go out with me?" He glances away from the road and grins at me.

I narrow my gaze. He wants me to fluff him up like a goddamn show bird. I can't even imagine what kind of fantasy he's constructed in his mind – that I've been secretly pining after him for years and the big break up between Beck and I finally gave me a window to reach up and snatch him? That I spent my weekend squealing over this date? This stupid date? That I couldn't possibly have found better company to spend my Sunday with?

My hands curl into fists on top of my knees. "Just wanted to hang out with someone new, I guess." I barely say the words without growling. Sinking into the seat, I look out the window again as he prattles on, fingers squeezing my kneecap.

We arrive at a pizza parlor. I've never been here before, but it smells like dust and gnarly cheese. The floor is checkered black and white and the booths are a pale red color. There's only two tables taken and as a waitress with a beehive hairstyle leads us to one near the back, I inspect their food and find that it's less than appealing. Kyle tells me as we sit across from each other that he'll definitely be paying, but I have a feeling that he chose this restaurant because there's no way it's expensive.

Our drinks are delivered when the waitress takes our order for a pizza. She scuttles off and I finally meet Kyle's eyes, determined to hold them, to talk to him. I should at least give this guy a chance. He seems ecstatic to be here with me – shouldn't I feign some interest, at least? I mean, I did hate Tori for all that time, right? Maybe Kyle has some redeemable qualities.

Before I can ask a question, Kyle beams. "Tell me about yourself. I transferred to HA –" (did he just abbreviate the school? Good God.) "- when I was a freshman, but I don't think we've ever really spoken."

I smile tightly. "That's a shame. Such wasted time."

Kyle laughs and smiles far too smug for my liking. "Right?" His eyes steady on my face before flicking momentarily down. I instantly regret wearing a low tank top today. "Anyway, tell me something. Something interesting."

I curl my fingers around the cup, noting the soap residue (at least, I hope that's what it is) around the rim. Feeling my stomach twist, I let it go. "Well, obviously, I want to be an actress. I like singing and screen writing." I hate these kinds of questions. Isn't it better to show people about yourself instead of telling them? I wince when I think of Tori –she was all showing, all revealing, not this stupid, tense staring at one another and demanding details. I take a breath through my nose. "You know, that kind of stuff."

Kyle nods. He touches his chin, eyebrows crooking thoughtfully. "No offense, but I was always kind of intimidated by you."

This does not surprise me, given my reputation. "Oh?"

"Yeah. I heard about that girl you pushed down the stairs sophomore year. You were always so brutal."

I frown. That incident has followed me for years. The girl was a year older than me and, according to rumors, was flirting disgustingly often with Beck in a class she had with him. I called her out on it in front of her friends at lunch and she never forgave me for it. We were passing each other one time in the hallway and she dared to let her shoulder slam into mine. I grabbed her arms and shoved her – hard, sure, but not hard enough to send her down the stairs. She did that on purpose, knowing I would get in more trouble if she came out of it with more injuries. Fortunately, it was her word against mine, so we only had to serve detention. She graduated last year, but up until then she has been exaggerating the 'attack' and making me look like some kind of cold-blooded killer.

"Yeah," I reply, pinching my straw and swirling the ice cubes slowly. The clock behind Kyle says it's four thirty. I wonder what Tori's doing. I suck my lip between my teeth, Kyle babbling in the background. I wonder if she's hanging out with Andre or Cat, trying to forget me. I wonder if she's singing with that angelic voice of hers to songs that remind her of me. Or maybe I'm putting myself too highly in her life – maybe she's fine. Maybe she's already over it.

Even though I know it's not true, the thought comforts me for a time.

Our pizza arrives. It's definitely cheaply made and tastes like paper. Kyle inhales four pieces in about five minutes, making comments between bites. I don't say much, intent on picking at a hole in the table with my fingernail. I've never been very social or talkative. It has to be the right person for me to open up – Beck and Tori are of the few who have managed to accomplish this. I watch Kyle's face – the piece of pizza cheese wedged between his two front teeth, the spot of red sauce on his upper lip, the way his eyes keep leaving my face to travel south – I feel awful. I want to go home and stuff my face with ice cream and then find Tori tomorrow morning and – and what? Beg for forgiveness? Get on my knees and swear to never do it again?

My teeth grind. I don't make promises. I don't swear things to anyone. But Tori makes promises and she's kept them so far. She's been nothing but nice and sweet since we became friends. And what have I rewarded her with?

Me being a bitch. Like my mom.

"You're friends with Tori Vega, right?"

"What?" I lift my head, her name igniting something in me.

Kyle swallows around his pizza. "Tori Vega. She's your friend, right?"

I nod slowly. Does Kyle read minds? That would be icing on the cake. "Yeah, why?"

"My friend totally has the hots for her. I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go on a double date sometime with her and my buddy."

I try to picture it. Kyle and I with another obnoxious, conceited jerk, and Tori. That jerk touching Tori. That jerk putting his arm around her and talking too close to her face and maybe trying to kiss her goodnight and suddenly I'm so angry I could spit fire, my blood running to my face so fast I feel light-headed. I grip the edge of the table and push myself out of the booth.

I don't want Tori with anyone else. I can't even picture it without feeling like going crazy. Tori Vega has my heart in her beautiful hands and I am not about to give her reason to let go of it.

I've made the worst mistake by listening to my mom, by giving her the power to influence any of my decisions. I want Tori Vega. I want to take her to nicer restaurants than this and engage in conversation that is easy and fun and makes my heart pound and I want to laugh and feel good and complete.

I think of Tori at her house picturing me here with a boy when I know she likes me so strongly and now I can imagine how it feels.

"I gotta go." I look at the clock. Quarter after five. "Sorry, I just remembered I, uh, I've got to meet my mom at five thirty."

Kyle frowns, but stands. "Did I say something wrong?" He fishes out his wallet. I follow at his side as he goes back to the counter and pays the bill.

"I just have to go."

We go back to his car. Kyle still looks upset, pulling out from the restaurant without a word. Finally, he says, "Did you have fun, at least?"

I laugh before I can stop it. I'm not naturally a nice person. I can't help it. I do try to muffle my smile though as Kyle frowns at me. "No, yeah, yeah, I did. Sure."

He starts to follow down the road that will lead to my house. I swing out a hand and grab his shoulder. "No. Go this way."

"Why?"

"My mom isn't at home. She's somewhere else."

Kyle lets out a frustrated breath but follows my directions. My limbs feel electric. I feel like I could run there if I wanted to, but this is faster, and I've kept Tori waiting long enough.

"There." I point to the house. Kyle furrows his brow but obeys. If he's got anything going for him, it's an amazing ability to do as he's told. "Thanks." I open the door and put one foot on the ground, only to feel fingers curl around my elbow. I tear out of his grasp, whipping around with my eyes set on 'fuck you'. Kyle instantly recoils, mouth flapping before he summons a less confident smile.

"Do I get a kiss?"

My eyebrows fly up. And then I'm laughing again, standing up and about to shut the door. Pausing, I eye the Vega house's window before spinning around, bending to find Kyle's. "Here's some advice, Kyle. Don't try so hard. Dating should be easy, you know? Like hanging out with your best friend. And don't take girls to cheap pizza parlors. Take them somewhere nice. Unique. Special." I think of the The Human Body and my heart swells. "And I kind of need to kiss someone else."

I close the door. Kyle's still sitting stunned in his car when I knock on the Vega's door, but he eventually takes off. I jump from foot to foot, about to knock again when it creaks open to reveal a very suspicious Trina. Her hair is piled on top of her head in pink curlers.

"Is Tori home?"

Trina nods slowly. "She's been in her room all day." Her eyes narrow. "Have you got anything to do with that?"

"Yes." I put my foot on the threshold of the house. "I'm here to fix it."

Trina puffs out her cheeks before taking a step back. I practically sprint for the stairs, climbing them two at a time. Tori's door is partially open. I stop outside of it. My heart is loud. Her TV is on. When I turn slowly around the edge of the wall, I see her with the blankets to her chin and her eyes are sad.

And like a string is connecting us, like our moves are synced to one another, I step into view just as those chocolate irises swivel toward the door. She shoots up instantly, body flying into motion. Her legs swing over the side of the bed. I step into the room, one arm pushing the door until it clicks closed. She's in pajamas, dark hair unbrushed, soft and lovely and looking at me with an expression between pain and concern.

"What's wrong?"

I tremble. Even now, after all this, she's still worried about me. She cares. She's always cared.

She rounds the bed and stands there, watching me, hands slightly raised as if she wants to reach out but doesn't know if she should. There are a dozen questions in her eyes.

I answer them for her. I take two long steps and take her face in my hands, meeting her eyes for just a moment before the distance between us is closed by my mouth meeting hers. I feel shock zap through her body, but it's brief, and then she's melting into me, kissing me with warmth, arms hugging my waist.

The kiss says more than I can. I'm sorry. Forgive me.

I'm here.


	20. Chapter 20

**_|Tori|_ **

The most inconvenient time for your lungs to fail you is when you are in the midst of kissing someone. It is also the only time my lungs seem to fail me. Ever.

I pull back from the warmth of Jade's lips not because I'm not deliriously happy to be kissing her, but because if I didn't, the lack of oxygen to my brain would have surely caused me to pass out. My hands find her shoulders somehow, swallowing great gulps of air as my purple walls spin. Jade's cold palm presses against my cheek while the other finds my hip, steadying me as I blink and try to rearrange my thoughts, which have blown uselessly to the corners of my mind, just out of my grasp.

What just - how did - why - ?

"Jesus, Vega."

Jade sounds breathless too, but her worry is much more evident. She guides me to the bed and puts a hand on my back as we sit. My heart is hammering my ribs unmercifully, making me even more dizzy. I clutch onto her, mouth empty of words, mind vacant of coherent thoughts. My eyes can only focus on Jade, her black hair twirling in corkscrews, the strands of blue almost green now. Her green eyes are rimmed in black and her tank-top shows off her white shoulders and chest and her lips are parted and oh my god she kissed me -

I lift a hand to my mouth. It's warm. When I dart my tongue across my lips, I can feel her there. Unable to say or do anything, I end up just gaping at Jade, whose expression is switching between concern and embarrassment.

"You should have warned me that you were going to go into cardiac arrest," Jade mumbles, removing her hands from me and looking down at the floor. Her cheeks are burning a light pink and I can't think of a time I've ever seen Jade blush before. It's cute, really, one of her hands raising to press against a burning cheek.

"Uh." It's not an entirely intelligent sound, so I try to remedy it before the silence can stretch too long. "I mean, uhm, what, why ...?"

Jade shifts. Upon seeing her standing in the doorway of my room, my initial reaction was body-freezing shock. I had spent the majority of today curled up in my bed watching TV - speaking of which, the babble is still going on behind us. I reach for the remote on the other side of my mattress, flicking the TV off. Quiet swells between Jade and I, who still hasn't answered my question. I wait, looking between my hands clasped together and her stern profile. My brain has finally situated itself, and while my heart is still giving vicious roar cries in my ribcage, I can think again. Jade kissed me. I lick my lips. Jade showed up in my room and her expression had been torn between fear and something like ... victory? Like she had won, but wasn't sure if she was eligible for the prize anymore. I chew the inside of my lip and look down as well. Finally, Jade turns to watch me.

"He took me to Paula's Pizzeria."

A smile threatens to grow on my lips. "Isn't that the same place where a lady found dead ants cooked into her pizza crust?"

Jade makes a face. "I wouldn't be surprised."

I lift my head, tucking my hair behind one ear and meet her eyes. We both struggle to hold the other's gaze for a few minutes - mostly because the last time I saw her, I had been so incredibly pissed off that I could barely imagine her face in my mind without feeling like punching a wall. Our last conversation replays in my mind, my good mood simmering somewhat. "So." I cross my arms. "He took you to a bad restaurant and you came here."

"I couldn't do it." Jade looks at the mattress, then back to me. She's tense, a thick line protruding in her neck. "I couldn't ... date him. It wasn't just the restaurant. It was ... him. I don't ... I don't want him."

My heart flutters. I swallow, unable to hold her gaze and staring at the white carpet beneath my feet. "And Beck?"

Jade's hands clench on her knees. I look up and her eyes are over my head, toward my window. Her lips press together and then she looks at me - really looks at me, a decision weighing in her eyes. Then, she scoots closer, our thighs melting together. Her hand touches my knee and despite the usual coolness of her skin, the touch erupts with fire.

"It's been over a month." She says this like it's supposed to mean something even though it really doesn't. Love keeps going, no matter how much time has passed. Seeming to recognize this, Jade ducks her head slightly while still holding my eyes. "It still hurts. I won't lie to you about that. But I don't -" She takes a deep breath, eye contact severing briefly when she looks at her hand on my knee. She looks at me again. "I don't want him anymore." A smile works onto her lips. It's a soft, tender thing, that sends my heart into a complete fit. "I want you."

My lips part with a silent gasp because she means those words. I know her well enough to know when she's lying, when she doesn't mean something. But the words were spoken with strength and conviction. If she didn't want me, she obviously wouldn't be here.

Eyebrows digging down, my mouth drips into a frown. "Then why did you act so ..."

"Bitchy?"

I smile briefly before letting it fall. "Yeah. What happened on Friday?"

She looks at her hand on my knee again. Her thumb swipes across the denim for a few moments. "My mom. She stopped me before I could leave the house and scared the shit out of me." Her green eyes close. "She's smart. She guessed that you and I were ... more than friends, I guess, and said that if I wanted to have the career I've always aimed for, then I needed to ... rethink my relationship-thing with you."

"Relationship-thing."

"Yeah."

Her eyes open. Her teeth rest on her lip and she flicks her eyes to me, gauging my expression.

My mouth opens and closes twice before I manage to put words in order. "I'm sorry she did that to you." I sigh, tilting my head down as I put my hand carefully on top of hers. "You really hurt me on Friday."

"I know." Jade's voice is quiet. "I'm really sorry. It's just that - she got to me. She got to me and I reacted the only way I know how. By lashing out at the people I care about." She frowns. "It's a habit of mine. A bad one."

I mirror her frown. "Yeah." I squeeze her hand. "Apology accepted, by the way. But she's right." When Jade's eyes practically zip out of her skull, I quickly explain. "About your career, I mean. Us dating would make things more difficult. People are still pretty stupid about the whole thing."

Jade nods, only to quickly shake her head. "I don't care. I really don't. I'm not going to pass up on ..." She blushes again, stuttering before nodding in my direction. A blush of my own flares up to my face. "Besides, it's not like we're getting married. I just want to, I don't know, explore this." Her fingers shift, slithering in the gaps between my own. "You know?"

Her eyes meet mine again. I can't help the smile that explodes on my lips, nodding in agreement. "Yeah. I know."

A smile of her own blooms on Jade's face, a nervous laugh coming from her throat. She squeezes my hand, eyebrows twitching downward. "Is there a formal way to do this or ...?"

"Do what?"

She huffs. "Vega."

"West."

Another bubble of laughter. It's a great sound, I decide - like audible gold.

"Asking you to be my -" She takes a deep breath. Smiles wider. "Girlfriend."

I grin wildly at her, the sound of my heart blowing my eardrums out as my hand finds her face. I draw her forward, watch her eyelids flicker closed as our lips meet. It's our second kiss and considerably softer than the first - warm, soft. Stars - no, something bigger, something brighter - dance behind my closed eyelids, blood singing in my ears. She tilts her head over mine, a hand finding my knee once more. My own eyes close, my lips on fire, my knee burning beneath her hand. Jade wants to be my girlfriend. Scratch that - she is. She is my girlfriend.

Because it's been obvious for a while now that I want her, that I want all of her. And as for my career ... well, I'm not going to give up on it. I'll try just as hard as I was before. I don't want to ever think of Jade as an anchor pulling me down. I want to think of her as sails, full of wind and momentum, pulling us both forward.

My heart seizes as I kiss her harder, all but dragging her on top of me as I fall on my mattress. Jade is smiling behind the kiss and when it breaks - with mutual breathing problems this time - she's laughing. One knee is between my legs, her hands braced on either side of my head. I stare up at her in awe, her black hair closing us off like walls, trapping her eyes in mine.

"Jesus, you're looking at me like you're ready to take a bite out of my face."

I laugh, shifting my hands. My fingers find her forehead and sink into the depth of her hair. It's thicker than I expected, filling the spaces between my fingers. She smiles down at me. "I am hungry," I say, before I close my eyes and shake my head. "This isn't - I'm dreaming, right?"

Jade chuckles, rolling off of me only to lay on her side to my right. Pressing her face into her palm, she meets my eyes and studies me silently for a few moments. "I don't get it," she says finally, not explaining even when I raise my eyebrows at her.

"Get what?"

"Why you like me." Her face crumples. "That sounded much more melodramatic than I wanted it to. I mean, like, you're so ..." She gestures to me with a wave of her hand. "Nice."

I laugh, rolling onto my stomach and nodding. "Yeah. So are you."

"Not your kind of nice."

"So?" I reach out, tapping the tip of her nose. Our dynamic is so easy - I don't even think about doing the things I do. My heart feels swollen, about to burst, and while usually this would probably be a horrible health hazard, I can't help but smile at the sensation. "Not everyone has to spew sunshine to be a good person, you know. The moon is just as nice."

Jade smiles slowly, her hands folding on top of her stomach. "Is that what we are, then? The sun and the moon?"

She says it so softly, so full of meaning, that I can't hold back. I kiss her again, short and soft, feeling her breath stutter from her lungs when I pull back. "The sun and the moon," I agree against her lips, pulling back because breathing is required for living and I can't seem to do it very effectively when I'm that close to her. It's like we're both intoxicated with each other, our eyes hazy, our laughter nervous but high. "Stay for dinner," I say, patting the hands on top of her stomach. "Since I imagine you didn't eat anything at Paula's Pizzeria. Or, at least, I hope you didn't."

"God, no." She sits up, taking my hand as she does, and pulls me to my feet. "I'm starving."

"Hey." My voice stops her at the door. She turns. "I know this is, like, fast, but, uhm, do you mind if I, uh, tell my parents? Trina?"

She blinks. "Your dad is a cop."

"Yes."

"He has guns."

I laugh. "My parents are cool, I promise." I squeeze her hand. "But we can wait. I don't mind."

She meets my eyes. Then, shaking her head, she smiles at me. "You've waited long enough, don't you think?" Her face drops. "Tori, do not even start crying -"

"I'm not crying!" I blink my burning eyes hard, laughing as I pull her into my arms and hug her with enough strength to probably strangle someone. "I just have a lot of feelings -"

"Your feelings are choking me, Tori."

Laughing into her hair, I release her, reaching past her to grab the door handle. "Yes, by the way." I wink at her as I step into the hall. "I think we've both waited long enough."

She grins and follows behind me.

Somewhere, a streetlight turns green.


	21. Chapter 21

**_|Jade|_ **

I'm never early to school. I'm never early to anything, really, but when I woke up twenty minutes before my alarm and felt the hollowness of my house, I just couldn't sit there in it. So I showered quick, didn't bother styling my hair, yanked on a pair of jeans and a tattered t-shirt with fishnet sleeves and got out of there as soon as I could.

My house used to comfort me with its emptiness. It was a physical representation of how I had always felt - vacant, scooped out, like I had been built for living and no one cared to move in. Beck had rented me out, tested out a few things, and when he left there was still dents in the carpet, squares where pictures had hung on the walls, now gone. And it had hurt, it still hurts, because the ghost of him haunts me sometimes, but there's a new tenant. Someone else has moved in.

I chew my thumb as I lean against my locker. Monday mornings lack more people than usual. Students move sluggishly by me, yawning, complaining in small groups about how the weekend had been too short. I smile faintly at that, shifting my teeth to my knuckle.

The weekend, for me, had started like a foggy morning, only for the sun win out in the end. The sun and the moon, I remember fondly, not able to smother the grin that blooms on my face. Dinner last night had been eventful, to say the least - Tori had all but squeezed my hand dry beneath the table when she stuttered out to her parents that I am now her girlfriend. Strangely, I hadn't felt all that nervous about it. I had met her mother's gaze with a tiny smile, and Trina's fork clattering in the edge of her plate had been drowned out by Tori's mother erupting in congratulations.

"Oh, sweetie, that is fantastic. Jade is a doll."

That made me laugh, and when I turned to Tori's dad, he was eyeing me suspiciously, like, well, like a cop would, but then he clapped a hand on Tori's shoulder and said, "Well, I can't say I'm not surprised, because I kind of thought you and Andre ..." He shifted his hands.

Tori had giggled at that, shaking her head. "Nope. Andre's my best friend, but that's all." She turned to look at me, eyes glowing, a bitten smile on her face. "Jade's a little something more."

My cheeks burned at that, and her mother was cooing again like we were babies dressed in matching outfits, and her dad proceeded to, awkwardly, inform the two of us that we were lovely young ladies and he didn't mind at all that we were - and he had to swallow here - girlfriends. Trina, surprisingly, said nothing. That was more troubling than anything she could have said, but I dismissed my concerns immediately. I've never cared for Trina and I'm certainly not going to start now.

Before I had left for the night - I insisted on walking despite the numerous times Tori offered to drive me home; I wanted the time and space to think - Tori had kissed me in the doorway without hesitation, despite Trina and her father leering behind her. I've always known that Tori is a brave girl, but sometimes the amount of guts she has stuns me.

"Hey, muchacha."

I don't react right away, not really paying attention to anything other than my own thoughts, but I'm yanked from them when a fist collides with my shoulder. I look up sharply, only to relax upon seeing Andre. Andre and I haven't really been friends so much as friends of friends - he hung out with Beck a lot, so we were often in the same places together. The only time I had ever really hung out with him alone was when I helped him with a song last year. He's a nice kid, though, and I'm glad that if anyone is Tori's best friend, it's him.

"Hey." I toss my eyes toward the doors again before turning to face Andre. "Seen Tori?"

A grin spreads his lips wide. I narrow my gaze as he shrugs knowingly. "Not yet. She should be here soon, though."

I continue to study him as he grins like a madman. "What are you so happy about?"

Andre laughs - a deep, happy sound. He waits, watching me, and when I do nothing, his eyebrows drop. "Seriously? Tori's my best friend, Jade."

Oh. Oh. "Oh," I say, not too intelligently. Frowning, I glance at the doors for the hundredth time. "So she told you."

Andre shrugs, leaning against the lockers. "She told me about the crush, yeah, a few weeks ago. After Friday, I thought things had gone to hell - no offense - but then her status last night was ecstatic, and I knew it had to be you."

I can't help but smile at that. "Ecstatic, huh?" I still haven't gone on the Slap since Beck and I split. I take a moment to realize how much easier it is to think that sentence now.

"Mhm. You make her really happy." He's grinning at me again, like I'm some kind of saint, and for some reason it makes me nervous. What does he expect of me now? To be the cheery, sugary cupcake that Tori is? I return the gesture back to him, albeit much less enthusiastically. While I wouldn't say I'm by any means the same Jade I was a month ago, I'm still no Tori or Cat or Andre. I'm still moody as hell and a die-hard pessimist. I'm still a Venus fly trap, it's just now I'm in the same pot as a sunflower.

"There she is," Andre says, nodding over my shoulder, and all of my worries are blown away when I turn to see Tori striding through the doors. She's wearing yellow - no doubt inspired by our conversation yesterday - and brown boots that click when she walks. She stops to say hello to a girl by the front lockers, but as soon as she sees me, she's scurrying in my direction. Her face is so lit with glee that I forget we're in a hallway full of people, that Andre is standing right next to me. My arms find her waist and hers are around my neck, the smell of vanilla swimming up my nose when I bend to kiss her. I don't even plan on kissing her, and when I realize that I am, it's too late - Tori's eyes are fluttering closed and she's muffling a smile behind my lips.

She so warm and goddamn soft, like a fucking Care Bear.

I pull back first. A layer of her lip gloss is on my mouth, and Tori's face is red and mine is about to get there. It takes me a moment to realize that the hallway is silent, that all eyes are trained on us. Tori blinks slowly, her head pivoting in a circle before she returns her eyes to me. And then she's giggling, taking my hand and stepping back a little.

"Well," Tori says, one hand trembling as she scoops her hair behind her ear. "That was. Interesting."

Andre's eyes look about ready to pop out of his skull. "Breathe," I tell him, and he sucks in a loud breath through his gaping mouth.

People are ducking their heads. Whispering. I squeeze my hand around Tori's, protective, possessive, and it's a good thing that another detention would result in an expulsion because I feel like swearing up a storm to one girl in particular who is lifting a lip at us in disgust. I glare back at her with as much venom as I can summon before I look to Tori, who doesn't even care, who is talking to Andre while slipping her fingers in mine and laughing.

It's not like I've ever lived my life with other peoples' opinions in mind. I haven't given a single shit about what people thought of my appearance, or my weird collections, or my extensive gore film collection, or my dark nature. And when I decided that, yes, I want to be with Tori - which is a thought that still sends my heart on a frantic drum roll - I also figured that their opinion of my relationship wouldn't matter to me, either. And I guess it's not so much what they think of me, really - it's her. Tori. I don't want anyone looking down on her or sneering at her or looking at her like she's anything less of amazing.

"Jade?"

Tori's cool fingers on my arm pull me from my angry thoughts. Swiveling back to her, she gives me a reassuring smile. Cat had bounded up to us without me noticing, engaged in animated conversation with Andre. I study them, then Tori, and realize that the only people who matter to me or those who treat me with kindness. Not the rest of the school or my mom. All I really need are these people.

"Try not to set anyone on fire, okay?" Tori's grinning.

I look at our hands. I think of a month ago, two months ago, when even being in the same room as Tori irritated me to no end. "I can't believe this is actually happening." I don't realize I've said it aloud until Tori laughs.

"Me either," she says, giving a little jump when the bell sounds. She squeezes my hand before taking off to her locker. "I'll meet you at Sikowitz's!"

I wiggle my fingers at her before I dive into my locker. Grabbing my purse, I shut the door and give a tight scream at the sudden face that's hiding behind it.

My eyes lock on his, body stiff, blood cold, and all I can think of to say is, "Christ, Beck. I hope you're trying out for a fucking horror movie."

Beck isn't smiling. His expression is stern, actually, which isn't something I've seen very often on him. I'm surprised to see him in black jeans and a gray t-shirt - a walking rain cloud if I've ever seen one. My eyes narrow suspiciously - now that I think about it, he's dressed like me.

"Are you going to talk to me? Ever?" His eyebrows rise.

I gape at him silently, waiting for the onslaught of pain to attack my chest like it had since breaking up upon seeing him - but nothing happens. It's uncomfortable being this close to him, sure, but I don't feel like crying or running away. I shoulder my purse and shrug, moving to step around him. Still, I have little desire to be friendly with the boy who broke my heart yet. "Maybe."

"Jade."

His hand snags my wrist. The minute I feel the contact, I give a jerk as if I'm being electrocuted, yanking out of his grasp. He puts his palms out defensively. "I'm sorry," he says quickly, taking a step forward to which I respond with moving backward. He huffs, hands falling to his sides. "I'm sorry," he repeats.

"Yeah, you say that a lot," I grumble, turning on my heel. Beck is at my side before I can even move two steps. My eyes roll so hard, it's painful. "Beck, seriously, I don't feel like -"

"I miss you."

That stops my feet. I grit my teeth and glare at him, cursing every god that comes to mind. Why is it as soon as shit stops hitting the fan, Beck has to say shit like this? Because a part of me is still just as in love with him as I was a month ago when he dropped me off at my house in the dark. A part of me might likely always be in love with him, as horrible as it sounds. First loves never die, isn't that what they say?

I can tell he means it, which makes it even worse.

"I'm dating someone, Beck." My voice is sharp. I think of Tori, taking all of those suspicious looks just a few minutes ago with her head held high. I tilt my chin upward. "I'm moving on. Isn't that what we're supposed to do?"

"But -" Beck flexes his hands. Drops them. Then, he heaves a sigh and looks at me in silence. The bells sounds. I'm late. Again. It's a good thing Sikowitz truly believes I will steal away into his home with a lighter and some matches or I would have been in detention a long time ago for tardies.

Beck sighs again and extends a hand. "Friends?"

I eye the hand, like I expect a buzzer to be on the side of his palm. I meet his eyes again and I see the same boy I was with for nearly three years, a boy I love, a boy I know loved me, at least at some point. And how could I not be friends with him, after all that we've been through? I narrow my eyes. But something about this seems wrong, the way his eyes are pleading, the way he said I miss you ... I frown, but take his hand, pump it once, and let go. If he's having second thoughts now, it's too late. I shift my purse and turn away again, marching toward Sikowitz's class. I have Tori. I want Tori.

But that doesn't stop me from looking over my shoulder before I turn the corner to see Beck doing the same thing, a smile that looks more like a frown clinging to his lips.


	22. Chapter 22

**_|Tori|_ **

When my phone erupts into song and dance in my lap, I nearly drive onto the sidewalk trying to answer it. Without checking the screen, I press the phone to my ear and cradle it against my shoulder so both of my hands can return to the wheel. Like the responsible adult I am.

"Yellow?"

"Must you answer the phone with colors?"

I grin despite myself. Navigating carefully through the streets that eventually wind to my house, I reply, "Well, you know, Jade is a color. I could just say that from now on."

I can feel the smile in her voice when she says, "I like that."

Laughing, I cradle the phone against my ear. It's Thursday, the week nearly over, and I can't say I'm not happy about that. School has been more exhausting than usual; I've had to answer the question are you really dating Jade West about a dozen times daily since Monday morning. My plan had been to take it slow, but Jade is just so kissable, and once I start, it's hard to stop. Besides, it seemed much more effective than anything I could have done, anyway. Much more prompt.

It's all still very bizarre to me, the whole situation, that a month ago Jade was crying at my doorstep and now I'm taking her hand in the hallways and kissing her goodbye in the parking lot. People still stare - not because we're both girls, really, as we're not the only same-sex couple at Hollywood Arts, but because our past isn't all that far behind us. It wasn't a secret that Jade harbored a distinct dislike for me, and the fact that we could go from frenemies to this is definitely stare-worthy. I don't blame them. I'd probably be gawking, too.

The most trouble has been from Beck. My lips flicker into a frown at the reminder. I've been meaning to talk to him, to explain, but he's been avoiding both Jade and I like the plague. Jade's been taking it like a blessing, but I feel torn about it. I like Beck. He's a nice guy overall, and I didn't want to lose my friendship with him over this. It doesn't seem like he's giving me a choice though, because as soon as I'm within talking distance, he all but bolts in the other direction, taking Robbie with him. Andre's tried to get him to join us at the lunch table the past few days, but he is persistent in his refusal. It's upsetting, but I suppose I'd feel the same way if I was in his place.

"I literally saw you five minutes ago," I say, turning onto my street as I shift the phone to my other hand. "What could have possibly happened between now and then to warrant a call?"

"I hate you too," she clips. "I guess I'll just see you tomorrow -"

"Hey! I was kidding!" Laughing, I swing into my driveway and turn the car off, opening the door but not getting out. "Just wanted to hear my beautiful voice, is that it?"

Jade chuckles. "Sure, Vega. Actually, I wanted to make sure you weren't busy Saturday. Cat was thinking of getting some friends together and meeting up at the Karaoke Dokie."

"Say Dokie again."

"No."

I huff dramatically, finally prying myself free of my car and shutting it with my foot. I make my way toward the front door, wedging it open with my shoulder. "I'm not busy. I'd love to go." I look into my living room. Trina is watching me from the couch with a particularly nasty look. I pause for a moment, checking my face with my hand to make sure there wasn't a bug on it or something. Feeling no abnormalities, I give my sister a questioning look as I drop my backpack by the stairs. "Who's driving?"

"I will. It'll probably be just Cat and Andre and some girl he likes, since Robbie seems attached to Beck's hip, and there's no way he's going."

Frowning, I make my way to the kitchen. I'm a firm believe in being friends with one's exes, having a few of them myself, and considering how long Jade and Beck were together, I think it's a shame that things don't seem to be settling down for them at all. They obviously had things in common and got along for the most part. It seems like a waste. "I feel like that's mostly my fault," I say bitterly, glancing at Trina again to find that she's twisted over the back of the couch, glaring at me. I mouth 'what' at her only to get more staring, so I roll my eyes and rip open the fridge.

Jade scoffs into the phone. "Don't even start. It's no one's fault. He wanted to see other people and then gets all butthurt when I start dating someone."

"I think it's because I am - or was his friend. There's probably some unwritten bro code that I'm infringing."

"Did you - did you just say bro code?"

"Yeah." I pull a cup of yogurt from the top shelf of the fridge before bumping the door closed with my hip. "You know, like, friend laws or something. I mean, think about it. What if it had been the other way around, and Beck, like, starting dating Cat? Wouldn't that be a little weird? Because Cat's your friend?"

Jade is silent for a time. I tear open the yogurt and grab a spoon from a drawer. Finally, she says, "I guess. Whatever. It's only been a few days. I'll just give him time to get over it. He can't pout forever."

"I hope not. He's a good friend."

Jade makes another rude noise. "Sure. I'll let you go, though - this stupid science project is going to kill me if I don't get started on it."

"Me, too. Maybe we can work together after school tomorrow." I scoop a spoonful of strawberry yogurt into my mouth.

"Somehow I predict we wouldn't get a lot of work done. Not science project related work, anyway."

My cheeks burn. Jade has made several flirty remarks like this in passing the past few days and they've never failed to make me blush. Swallowing, I start stuttering, which makes Jade laugh loudly into the phone. She finds my inability to flirt completely hilarious.

"See ya, Tori." She hangs up before I can answer, and I'm left still blushing like a moron and grinning as I bring another spoon of yogurt to my lips. As soon as my eyes drift from the counter top, I find Trina, still in the same position as before, her eyes narrowed into slits. Clinking the metal spoon against my teeth, I raise my eyebrows at her.

"What?" I lean against the counter. Trina's eyes only narrow further. "Seriously, Trina, I don't know why you suddenly find my face so interesting -"

"I don't get it." Trina presses her lips together before coming to a stand. She takes a few steps toward the kitchen - despite likely not having done much today, Trina is wearing heels, her hair is curled in wide ringlets down her shoulders. Her jewelry clicks around her neck as she moves to the other side of the kitchen, cocking her weight on one hip and crossing her arms. Her stance says 'shut up and listen' but she remains silent for so long that I fear she's forgotten why she came to talk to me at all.

"Am I supposed to ask or -"

"This Jade thing." Her thin, sculptured eyebrows tug down over her nose. "When she was here that weekend and I saw you guys practically making out in the hall, I thought it was just because, you know, the hottest guy in school just dumped her, but ..." Trina trails, eyeing me like she's never seen me before. "I just don't get it."

"What is there to get?" I take another bite of yogurt. Trina's never been an overly bright girl, but I never thought her to be that stupid. "We became friends, and then we started liking each other, and now we're dating. This is how normal relationships start, Trina, not with Slap stalking and following them home in your car and pulling their receipts from the garbage -"

Trina waves a hand to silence me, though she doesn't deny any of my accusations, because everyone knows they're true. "That's not what I'm talking about. You like chicks? Cool. Fine. You're looking at Trina Vega, known for getting a little wild after a few drinks." She grins and winks at me before becoming serious again so quickly that I'm reminded why Trina was accepted to Hollywood Arts in the first place. "It just seems a little weird to me that she's only interested in you after Beck breaks up with her."

I swallow the last bit of yogurt before tossing the empty container into the garbage. Still holding the spoon, I sigh, twirling the silverware in my hand. "That's normal for people, too. She was in love with him. Of course she wasn't interested in me. She wasn't interested in anyone."

"But, I mean, she didn't even like you. She hated you." Trina's eyes are almost concerned. "Aren't you worried about being her rebound?"

I frown. To be honest, I still am kind of worried about that sometimes. I usually push the thought away - it's easy to, especially when Jade kisses me, which is often. She certainly seems like she really likes me, but Trina did have a point. Jade hated everything about me before Beck broke up with her. She thought I was obnoxious and annoying and made it a point to highlight these things whenever she could. I haven't really changed all that much since we became friends, so why am I suddenly appealing to her when I wasn't before? The more insecure part of me says it's because Jade is only interested in getting back at Beck by dating someone she knew would upset him; a friend. A girl she had hated.

I shove the thoughts away. Spinning on my heel, I drop the spoon into the sink with a loud clatter. I trust Jade. I believe in her. It's just more difficult to ignore the irrational voice in my head when Trina says these things much louder. "No," I finally say, turning and making my way past my sister and back to the foot of the stairs.

"For being an actress, you're a terrible liar," Trina mumbles as I grab my backpack and march up the stairs. "Tori. Tori!"

I stop, turning back to her with a frown. "Look, I don't ask much of you, Trina, but for once, could you just have faith in my decisions? I really like Jade, okay? I don't want to mess this up." I shift my backpack strap and look down at my feet briefly. The relationship has barely started and I do not want to be responsible for ruining it just because of stupid, baseless insecurities. Jade hadn't done anything yet to question my trust, so why should I? What does it matter if she only started liking me after Beck broke up with her? People change every day.

"I'm not trying to mess up anything. I don't want you getting hurt." When I look at her in surprise, Trina mirrors my expression. "What? You think that just because I'm your big sister means I'd enjoy seeing you suffer?" Trina waves a hand. "I don't know Jade that well. But, I mean, if you're serious about her, then maybe I should hang out with her more." Trina's nose crinkles. "But you have to promise me that she won't, like, maul my face or something. I've heard rumors about that girl."

I manage a laugh. Protective Trina is not something I see very often. Trina's universe is small, but at least I'm in it. "We're planning on going to the Karaoke Dokie on Saturday. Want to come?"

Trina makes a face.

"There's cute guys there."

"Well, don't you know, I'm totally free."

I laugh, moving farther up the stairs and leaving Trina to her babbling as I make my way to my room. I crash on my bed with a sigh, plucking my phone from my pocket and pushing a multitude of buttons until my Slap status is updated to, 'Glad to have a big sister looking out for me. Now to tackle that science project. Mood: Determined.'

I bury myself in my homework to drown out Trina's echoing words of worry, but a few hours later my phone dings with a text. I check it, feeling my lips split into a wide smile as I see a tiny sun emoticon sitting in my inbox.

There isn't an option for a moon, so I end up sending back a star. Moments later she replies with, the whole sky?

I giggle, send back a smiley, and by the time I return to my science project, the voice in my head is much quieter.


	23. Chapter 23

**_|Jade|_ **

"Cat, we are not listening to the Diddly Bops."

When my eyes shift to the rear view mirror, I find the girl in question pouting at me, dark eyes huge and round. The cursed CD rests in her hands, stretching from the backseat to rest on the console between me and the empty passenger side.

"No," I say, firmly, before turning my eyes back to the road. "Stop laughing, Andre."

"I'm not laughing."

"You're chortling back there, I can hear you." Sighing, I glance over my shoulder. My forehead smacks into Cat's with an impressive thunk as our skulls collide. "Jesus, Cat!" One hand whips to my likely bruised forehead while the other takes control of the steering wheel. "The fuck is your head made out of? Bricks?"

Cat makes a loud gasping noise. She finally leans back in her seat with one hand to her lips, which have fallen open in a small 'o'. "Language, Jade."

Rolling my eyes, I return my full attention to the road. Had I known that picking up Cat and Andre would be so distracting, I would have made them walk. Grumbling, I turn on Tori's street. As her house emerges into view, I almost immediately relax, tight muscles uncoiling in relief. Tori's become this kind of sedative, a calming drug that I'm addicted to. Not that I'm complaining. At all. Because she's kind of awesome.

I can't help but smirk to myself, turning into Tori's driveway. Barely a moment goes by before she erupts from the house; her jeans are black, with an olive top pulled down at the shoulders to reveal the purple straps of a tank-top. Her hair is in its usual large hoops, her face bright and smile loud as she waves excitedly on her way down the driveway. I'm so focused on the way the sun lights up her dark hair and makes her skin glow bronze that I don't notice Trina until she's climbing into my car. Tearing my eyes from Tori, I twist over the back of my seat and glare hard as Trina drops herself into the back. She's in a dress so pink it quite literally makes my pupils scream in pain.

"Am I dropping you off somewhere?" My tone isn't exactly polite. Tori pulls her door closed beside me before reaching across and patting my hand on the console.

"She's coming with us." I give her a sharp look. "If that's okay, which it totally should be, right? She's my sister." Tori gives me a grin, one eyebrow cocking.

I've never had any personal vendetta against Trina - she's annoying and impossibly big-headed, but I've never actually talked to her before. Glancing back to Trina, who is eyeing me just as hard, like she suspects me to pull out a gun at any moment, I decide that, hell, I might as well get it over with. Dating Tori means getting to know her family, and while I still have no idea how her parents spawned two daughters so completely opposite, that doesn't make Trina any less Tori's sister.

A frown mars my lips. I turn back to Tori. "Right," I agree, and then she's sweeping forward and stealing me in a kiss.

I don't know why I expected Tori to be a secretive, private kind of person, especially since I've seen her date boys before. Maybe it's because I'm the first girlfriend she's ever dated, I kind of anticipated her to be nervous with PDA. To my surprise, she seems to be taking to it pretty well, even lingering on my mouth a little longer than necessary, whilst Cat, Andre, and Trina watch us with mouths open in the backseat. When she finally pulls back, my lungs are straining and my eyes feel heavy, settling on Tori as she pulls her seatbelt over herself, completely unfazed.

Courage, that one.

Grinning, I turn back to the wheel, throw the car into reverse, and speed off. After a few minutes of just the radio filling the car, I break the silence with a question. "So, this girl we're meeting, Andre. What's her name?"

"Felicia," Andre replies, though he still sounds considerably shocked. "She's from Northridge."

Trina makes a loud 'yuck' sound and the two go at it, discussing the quality of Northridge girls versus the ones at Hollywood Arts. Free from the conversation, I relax against my car seat again. Tori's humming along with the music, smiling, and I have to remind myself that I'm driving and I need to pay attention to the road several times as we make our way toward the Karaoke Dokie. Tori's just so nice to look at, very easy on the eyes, and it doesn't hurt that I like her a lot.

The whole situation is very new to me, despite having dated Beck for almost three years. He was my first serious boyfriend and it lasted so long that I forgot how exhilarating it is in the beginning. Every little thing she does has me switched on, alert, tracing the lines of her legs and the curve of her mouth and the goddamn twinkle in her eye every chance I get. Of course, it's petrifying, to a degree, that Tori is able to capture me so entirely. The last person who did crushed my heart into dust.

But Tori's not Beck, I remind myself. Tori is so not Beck.

"I can't wait to meet Felicia," Cat chirps. "I hope she likes us! And she'll even get to meet Robbie, and then she can introduce some of her friends to him because we all know that Robbie needs a girl -"

"Robbie's coming?" Andre asks, momentarily pulled from his argument with Trina.

"Oh, yeah," Cat replies nonchalantly, waving a hand that I catch a glimpse of in my mirror. "He texted me earlier and said that Beck and him would meet us -" She stops. Her eyes cut to the mirror where they meet mine, my fingers suddenly taut wire wound around the wheel. "Oh," she says, a frown dripping down her lips. "I should have told you."

Flicking my attention back to the road, I say through gritting teeth, "That would have been nice."

"What's the big deal?" Trina leans over Cat to find my mirror, where she proceeds to adjust her hair. "It's been forever since you guys split."

Tori is giving her sister warning eyes, but the other Vega girl is either great at pretending to not notice or truly is that oblivious. I squeeze the steering wheel and keep my attention on the road. She's right, though. In teenage years, a month is forever. But since our 'truce' of sorts on Monday, he's gone out of his way to avoid me. I mean, I understand that seeing his ex date one of his friends is kind of awkward, but he's the one who wanted to be buddies so badly, and now he won't even look at me. Weren't we over this? Was I over this?

I glance at Tori again. Silence has filled the car and she's hunched over, hands picking at each other in her lap. Turning my eyes back to Trina, who hasn't moved, I say, "It's not a big deal. I just would've liked a heads up that my ex was going to be there." I pause for a moment, my next words directed to Cat. "Does he know I'm going to be there?"

Cat chews her lip in silence. After a few moments of intense staring, she finally cracks. "Well, no. I invited both of them during history, but I just said it was me and Andre and the girl from Northridge." She fidgets. "I didn't lie! I just, I didn't think they'd come if they knew you guys were coming, and I miss hanging out with them." Cat's eyes fall to her hands. "I miss how we used to all hang out."

I sense more than see Tori stiffen at my side.

"I didn't - I don't mean that I'm not glad you guys are together, because I am, really!" Cat's voice is high-pitched and squeaking. "It's just, you know, things have changed, and Robbie's been keeping Beck company through all of this, and I miss him, and I miss Beck." She meets my eyes in the mirror again. "Sorry."

"Don't be." The Karaoke Dokie's parking lot is pretty filled when I pull in, but I find a spot quickly. Turning off the car, I twist in my seat to meet each of my friend's - and Trina's - eyes in turn. "Look, I never meant to make it seem like you guys had to pick between me and Beck. We're friends." I frown. "Or, well, we're trying to be friends, but things are, you know." I look to Tori, who gives a tight smile. "Complicated." I look back to Cat, reaching toward her until I find her hand. I blame Tori entirely for my sudden need to comfort people. "We're all still friends, okay? We're just in a bit of a rut at the moment. I'm going to fix it." I glance at Andre. He's biting his lip and doesn't look convinced, but nods.

Cat's lower lip is trembling. "Promise?"

My spine goes rigid. My eyes immediately turn to find Tori's. She's the only one I've ever promised anything, the only one I dared to let myself be held accountable for. But when I look back to Cat and even Andre, I realize that I hold some responsibility in the way our group has, fallen apart. I didn't initiate the break up with Beck, but I let my bitterness come between the few people I have to call friends. And while I don't regret dating Tori, she and I both know that it's only made the rift wider.

I owe it to them to try and make this right because, as much as I hate to admit it, and as much as Tori's made it more obvious, I have, like, feelings. They're gross and exhausting, but I have them.

"Promise," I whisper, and Cat's face lights up as if by my promise, it was somehow already true.

"Kay kay!"

"Man, what is this? An after school special?" Trina snorts and rolls her eyes before shoving the door open. "If you guys make a group hug, I'm going home."

The rest of us climb out of the car after her. Locking it with a button on my keychain, I fall into step beside Tori, whose hand quickly finds mine. Giving it a squeeze, we follow Trina into the Karaoke Dokie. It's a brightly lit place, the bass deep under our feet and the smell of fries and nacho cheese in the air. We weave through tables until we find a vacant one by the empty stage where the girls drop their purses. Andre keeps looking between his phone and the rest of the room; people stand in small groups, talking and laughing, the DJ asking for volunteers over the speakers. Trina sees someone she knows and takes off, and, frankly, I'm glad I don't have to converse with her just yet.

I'm searching for him without really thinking about it. I see Robbie first, carrying a drink in each hand, and I follow him as he makes his way to a table on the other side of the room. And then - there, seated across from a girl I don't recognize is Beck. He's smiling, dressed in a casual white t-shirt and jeans, yet still managing to look like a super model. This is the first I've seen him not at school in a month and it's almost unsettling. Tori seems to sense my unease, giving my hand another firm squeeze.

"You okay?" She stands next to me before following my eyes toward Beck. "Oh."

I look at her. She's frowning, eyes on Beck, hand slipping from mine. I snatch it before it can get too far. "What?"

Her eyebrows raise. "What what?"

"You look upset. I haven't even insulted anyone yet."

Tori's smile is faint. "I'm not upset. I didn't know he was going to be here, either, and Trina hasn't exactly been on her best behavior, so our fun night out has gotten a little more ..." She pauses, then adds, "Complicated."

"Trina's fine," I assure her. "Trina's Trina. You forget that I went to school with her before I even knew you existed. I wasn't expecting Mother Theresa." I look back toward Beck, taking a swig from the drink Robbie brought him. I release a sigh. "As for Beck ... it's whatever. We're friends. We shook on it. I'll be civilized." I pull Tori close enough to touch my forehead to hers. "Okay?"

Tori's smile is much more sure this time. "Okay." Glancing toward the DJ, she brightens even further. "I'm going to sing."

"What kind of date would it be if you didn't?" I nudge her forward. "Go on. Maybe we'll do a duet later." I give her a wink as she takes off toward the DJ to request a song, leaving me to lean against our table. Andre is spinning in circles with his phone still in hand, suddenly giving a slight jump.

"Hey, Felicia!"

I watch as the two unite. She's a small, cute girl with big eyes, and she envelopes Andre in a hug. I watch them for a while, talking, making introductions, and I'm about to push off the chair to meet the girl myself when a tap on my elbow steals my attention.

"So what song -" It's as far as I get, because it's not Tori standing beside me.

Beck smiles. It's a soft, beaten thing, and his movements are wary, like he's afraid to get too close. "Hey." He says it smoothly despite his obvious discomfort. Over his shoulder is Robbie, adjusting his puppet against his chest before he makes his way around us.

"Hey, Jade," he manages, and I give a slight nod as he moves to Andre and Cat.

Turning back to Beck, I swallow hard. As many times as I tell myself he no longer affects me, it's obviously for naught. Still, I smile. "What's up?"

"Just hanging out." His eyebrows twitch. "Didn't know you were coming."

I mimic his expression. "Didn't know you were coming, either."

"Cat didn't -" He stops, face clearing with recognition. "Oh. Oh, I see."

"Yeah." I shift a little. "You - we kind of made a mess of things." I meet his eyes and sigh through the side of my mouth. "I really do want to be friends, Beck."

"I want to be friends, too." His eyes sharpen a little and dart to the side. I follow his line of vision until I see Tori chatting with the DJ. She's animated and laughing and golden and just watching her from the distance is enough to make my chest swell. "It's a little awkward, though," Beck says, bringing me back to him.

A shrug rocks my shoulders. "People date other people when they break up. Just because I'm in - I was," I catch myself quickly, but I can already see the words registering on Beck's face. I shake my head, like that will somehow make it disappear. "Just because I did love you," I rephrase, taking a deep breath, "Doesn't mean I stay stuck forever." I look toward Tori again. "I like her, Beck. I'm going to be with her whether or not you're my friend." Looking back to him, I shrug again. "It's up to you."

"I miss you."

It's the second time he's said this to me this week, and it hits me just as hard as it did the first time. At least this time I'm able to stifle my reaction, though the throb in my chest certainly doesn't go unnoticed. "I miss you, too," I say, because it's true. I do miss him. I miss talking to him and laughing with him and how easy and simple we were - obviously not as easy as I thought, since he ultimately decided it was best we split, but I still miss it. My eyes have fallen to my shoes, shifting between his feet and mine. If we had never broken up, I would be wrapping my arms around him and swaying to the music in front of everyone. I would be kissing his jaw and brushing my fingers through his hair. He'd say something funny and I would laugh and then I would kiss him and -

I shut my eyes. Take a deep breath. Blow it away. My eyes gravitate toward Tori again, still talking to the DJ, pointing to his computer screen. And it's stupid to say that she feels me looking at her, but she looks up at just the right moment, and in just the right direction, and I can' suggest anything else. She looks at Beck and back to me and gives a smile so reassuring I feel like my chest is going to pop.

"So let's be real friends, okay?" I look back to Beck and reach out, touching his arm. It's warm and familiar and comforting and even just the way his skin feels under my fingers reminds me of the home I never had. I swallow and meet his eyes again.

He nods slowly and my hand falls away. A few silent moments pass between us and then Andre's calling us over. By the time I reach the small group, with Felicia grinning up at us and Cat looking hopeful, Tori has returned, swiftly pooling her hand into mine. I watch as her and Beck make eye-contact for a brief moment, something passing between them that doesn't require dialogue.

"What song did you pick, Tori?" Cat asks.

Turning to look up at me, she gives a slow burning smile before turning to face the redhead. "You'll see."

"Hey, what are you losers doing?" Trina uses her elbow to nudge between Cat and Andre, looking at all of us like she's incredibly disappointed. "It's time to have fun, remember?"

I pull Tori close - my girlfriend on one side of me and my ex on the other and I think, maybe, our little (God, is there really no other word? Ugh. ) family might have a shot.


	24. Chapter 24

**_|Tori|_ **

I wait until Jade is distracted - and what with Cat babbling at a hundred miles an hour about how we're all together again, and Andre's new love interest making her rounds about our knit of friends, it doesn't take too long. When she's sufficiently wrapped up in Cat and the others, I find Beck's elbow and give it a tug. He looks at me first with something dangerously close to contempt. I immediately recoil, thinking maybe I'm doing all of this too soon, but then Beck's face relaxes and he's touching the back of his neck, frowning.

"Sorry," he says, a finger dipping under the collar of his white t-shirt. "I'm not mad at you."

"The death glare I just received says otherwise," I try to joke, but it just comes out flat. I cross my arms and shrug. "You have every right to be mad at me."

"No I don't." He meets my eyes. Despite his words, his frown only grows deeper. "I broke up with her. I don't get to make decisions for her." There is a touch of regret in his voice as he shifts onto his other foot, shaking his head. "It's whatever, really. I'll get over it."

I don't know what to say. What do you say to your friend when you start dating their ex? Thinking it like that makes it sound gross and wrong. My eyes look over toward Jade, dressed in gorgeous black, feigning interest in whatever Cat is going on about. She catches my eyes, her dark green ones shadowed over by the dim lighting of the Karaoke Dokie, and gives a slight twinge of a smile before she looks to Beck. Something unreadable passes over her face and then she's tearing her attention back to Cat and shifting uncomfortably.

"Well, I understand if you, like, want to keep your distance. Or whatever." I wasn't being particularly articulate so I just shut my mouth and stared at my open toed shoes, frowning.

"I miss her," he tells me, and when I look up he gives a slight shake of his head. "Not us, I guess, just." He shrugs, looking to me. "I mean, you obviously know how great she can be."

"Yeah," I agree, my tongue heavy in my mouth. I do know how great Jade is and I'm not stupid enough to throw her away like he did. I look toward Jade again and think, almost possessively, that she's my girlfriend now. I almost tell Beck that, this unfamiliar surge of jealously building up in my throat. He had his chance and he blew it and that wasn't my fault. I push it away - I'm not that kind of person. Besides, I do like Beck, and I can't imagine what he's feeling right now. "I guess I don't understand," I say, chewing the inside of my cheek when he looks at me again, eyebrows down. "Why you broke up with her, I mean."

"I've already told you," he replies. "She's closed in. I was tired of waiting around for her to open up. You'll see what I mean soon enough, I'm sure."

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. The sense of dread in my chest is so heavy I can't form words, so I touch his arm and try to give him a reassuring smile. "Well, I hope that isn't the case."

Beck's smile isn't so comforting, and soon I'm moving away from him because I don't know what else to do. He gravitates toward Robbie and I find Jade's wrist, her skin cool as I tug her forward.

"Was that as awkward as you imagined it?" Her smile is tight-lipped - she keeps looking over at Beck, eyes sad.

"Definitely." I squeeze her hand until she looks at me, finally holding her gaze for more than a few seconds. "I want to be friends with him. I want us all to be friends."

Jade shrugs. I know she likes to pretend that Andre and Cat and even Robbie mean little to her, but I know she likes having friends as much as the next person. She just doesn't enjoy showing it. "People grow apart when shit like this happens. He should have expected this. It's never going to be the same." Her tone is heavy. She looks at me and frowns, her hand sliding up my arm and ending at my elbow. "But I'm okay with that. I have you."

My heart stops. Which is totally pathetic and cliche, but she's so pretty and I'm so Tori and she likes me, she's gone from hating my guts to being my close friend to my girlfriend all in a little over a month and it's bizarre enough to make me stop for a minute and just think, wow.

"I picked out a song for you." A smile blows up on my lips as I watch as surprise registers on her face.

"Oh?"

"Yep. I think it fits you perfectly." I laugh. She opens her mouth to question me, but a voice over the speakers interrupts her.

"And our next performer is miss Tori Vega from Hollywood Arts!"

"You'll see," I tell Jade, crinkling my nose at her before I spin and jog toward the stage. There's applause as I take the microphone from the DJ. He double checks the song before I step out onto the stage, giving my best, dazzling smile. I love being in front of a crowd - which sounds horribly narcissistic, but that doesn't make it any less true. It isn't so much the attention as it is being able to show people what I'm passionate about: music. I love singing. I love diving into a song and feeling it in my lungs, a pleasant kind of drowning, and, most importantly, it's fun. It's exhilarating and terrifying, putting yourself out there, knowing everyone in the room is probably judging you. But it's worth the adrenaline and the music and the way the words feel when they mean something.

"I dedicate this song to my -" I giggle, chest swelling with something warm and soft, because I get to say this out loud, in front of strangers, and, God, it feels good. "My girlfriend," I finish, pointing in Jade's direction. The crowd cheers. The song rumbles through the speakers. Those who recognize the first few notes leap up in excitement as I toss my head back and forth, brown hair splashing my shoulders. I glance toward Jade to find her with her arms crossed, a studded eyebrow cocked, but there's a smile on her face that I know is especially for me. Grinning, I whip back to the microphone and start singing.

She's got tattoos and piercings  
She likes Minor Threat, she likes Social Distortion  
My girl's a hot girl  
A hood rat who needs an attitude adjustment

My eyes scan over the crowd but routinely go back to Jade who is laughing by now, swaying her hips along to the song. I don't want to, but I'm looking at Beck, who's watching Jade and frowning, the crowd moving around him. I ignore it for now. It's not my problem anymore.

Emergency, call 911  
She's pissed off at everyone  
Police rescue, FBI  
She wants a riot, she wants a riot!

Jade is really into the song now, not to mention the rest of the Karaoke Dokie. Everyone is out of their seats, swinging their arms, singing the lyrics along with me, reminiscing on the days when Good Charlotte was a popular band. Back when we were in middle school and relationships were always temporary, when love didn't really mean anything yet and love triangles didn't exist on a serious level. It's a younger, more free time, and we're all more than willing to drown in it because it was so much safer back then.

I look down at my friends, their hands cupped around their mouths as they scream back at me, and the whole place is vibrating with life and dancing and singing and it's a total riot, even as the song slows down to the refrain.

Oh, oh, oh  
Oh, oh, oh  
Don't you know that all I really want is you?  
Gotta know that all I really want is you!

The song picks up again at the chorus. I'm sweating and throwing myself around the stage like I was born to be there - I'd argue to the death that I was. I look at Jade again, dancing beside Cat and Trina, smiling up at me with such full-faced happiness that it makes me ache something wonderful.

For the first time, I feel confident that I'll get to keep her, that I'll make her happy enough and that, with time, she won't miss Beck so badly anymore, and we won't have to worry about him when we're around other friends. I chose this song for a reason - because the lyrics match her well and she does seem to be enjoying the riot atmosphere going on around her, but also because all I want is her. It's a different kind of want than what I had with Steven. It's deeper. More real.

And looking down at her glowing face, I know that she wants me just as badly.

She wants a riot, she wants a riot!

It ends with a grind of a guitar and the Karaoke Dokie screams so loud it's deafening. I'm laughing and out of breath, waving down at the people below me before I turn back to the DJ and hand him the microphone. I drop down into a mob of people, crushing my ears with compliments, patting my back, squeezing too close to me. A pale hand wedges its way through the throng of people and I grab it, forcefully yanked away and into my girlfriend's chest. She's laughing and smiling and leaning close to my ear so I can hear her whisper, "You're right. It does fit me perfectly."

The crowd eventually dies down, only to pick up again once Cat bounces up to the stage. She sings something slower and sweeter, her pretty voice filling up the room as people lift their arms and wave their cellphones in the air. Jade stands behind me, her arms around my waist and her chin on my shoulder. We sway to Cat's song.

You hold me without touch  
You keep me without chains

Jade's nose presses into my hair. I listen to her breathe in and melt against my back. My hands rest atop her arms.

"Your sister is such a creep," Jade mumbles, and I turn to look at Trina very obviously staring at a guy with giant tattoos on his arms. I laugh, watching as Trina runs the back of her hand over her chin.

"Good thing it doesn't run in the family."

"I'd argue you that."

I turn a little and watch her. "You think I'm creepy?"

Jade smiles, tugging me closer. "Totally. A certified creep. You have a Ph.D in Creepology."

"If I'm a creep, then you're a complete weirdo."

"Why?"

"Need I remind you of the things in your bedroom?"

She laughs, which gets me laughing, and it totally ruins the mood of the song, so we shut up after glances are thrown our way. We settle in silence again, but it's an easy, comfortable silence. Smooth. I don't feel the need to fill the quiet up with words; I can just appreciate her holding me and Cat singing in front of us with her eyes closed and her hand on her chest, entranced in a way that only song can manage.

"Hey."

The words are spoken too closely to be directed to anyone else. Jade and I turn simultaneously to see a boy a little shorter than me wearing a black t-shirt three sizes too small and jeans that sag low in the front (rather than the back, which is somehow fashionably acceptable). He grins at us, his smile an array of chipped and crooked teeth. To his left is another boy who looks so identical to the first that he's either a twin or a brother close in age. I feel Jade's arms freeze around my middle, immediately defensive, and I'd be lying if I said that wasn't kind of hot.

"What?" Jade's voice is unfriendly.

The boy is looking very closely at where my bottom meets Jade's pelvis, and then I realize that he's perving - he's perving on us because we're girls and we're dating! My cheeks burn. I'm used to being hit on, but being oogled in public by a guy who is probably inventing the most horrid things in his mind about Jade and I is something new.

"You guys are lesbians, huh?" It's the brother who speaks up, his teeth just as bad as his brother's. He has a phone in one hand, the thumb pressing against the cleft where the phone closes, like he's waiting for the perfect moment to flip it open.

Neither of us say anything. This doesn't seem to deter either of them.

"That's pretty hot," says the first one. He steps closer, which earns him a vicious snarl from Jade.

"Back off you little prick, before I embed the heel of my boot straight into your goddamn eye."

"Woah!" He lifts his hands, palm out, in front of us, like he's surrendering. "It was a compliment, woman. Jeez. No need to threaten us. We were just looking for a kiss."

Jade's arms leave my waist. She starts to charge but I grab her elbow, slowly pulling her back. "Just go away," I tell them, looking them both in the eye but neither of them seem to be actually seeing me. They're instead more focused on my chest. "This isn't the internet," I say, louder, and that finally tears their eyes back to mine. "We're not a porn video you can just click on and watch at your leisure. We're human beings."

The brother looks defeated, but the original boy glares at me. "We were just asking."

"No, you were expecting, and now you're mad because we won't cater to your request."

He looks confused. He probably didn't understand any of the words I just used and, with a frustrated grunt, steers his brother away by the shoulder. They mold into the crowd and I turn back to Jade, huffing, but she's grinning from ear to ear.

"You know, you're really hot when you're pissed off."

I laugh, my bad mood wiped out entirely. Jade has that weird but not at all unwelcome power over me. I glance over where the boys had disappeared. Not seeing them, I arch on my toes and find her lips. It's meant to be a peck, but Jade's hands find my waist and I'm holding the side of her face, my lips smiling and kissing all at once. I'm breathless by the time we part, and she's still laughing, tucking me close.

Here I am and I stand so tall  
Just the way I'm supposed to be  
But you're on to me and all over me

All over me, I think, wrapping my arms around her waist as we start to swing back and forth to Cat's voice.

I like the sound of that.


	25. Chapter 25

**_|Jade|_ **

The Karaoke Dokie closes at a respectable 9PM - because it is for high schoolers after all, and we're not quite at the age where partying all night is acceptable, despite the fact that the kids simply go somewhere else and continue their partying there. The group and I stay until the employees are practically shoving us out of the doors. Tori and Cat did another song, even Andre, but we spent most of the time dancing and eating buffalo wings and drinking far too much soda. For coming off as such a pristine, innocent little flower, Tori dances like a damn devil - not that I'm complaining. I've come to enjoy her oddly erotic dance skills. I should have suspected it, though - it must be the Hispanic in her, because she has some salsa hips.

Thinking of her like that is still new for me - not as an enemy, not as a friend, not as a close friend, but as my girlfriend, as someone I kiss and touch and flirt with and someone who, like, turns me on. And stuff. It's weird. Not unwelcome, but weird nonetheless.

When we're outside, Tori bounces back to the doors and begs to use the bathroom, even touching her knees together and giving a little bounce to convince the security guard to unlock the building and let her back in. Sighing, he yanks the door open and ushers her inside. Screaming that she'll be right back, she smiles at me before disappearing, leaving me alone - well, with a bunch of people I mildly tolerate and Tori's sister, so, yeah, alone. My boots click on the blacktop as I make my way to the car. With the sun gone, the sky is a deep shade of indigo, starless - the abundance of lights completely drown them out, but the moon is a tuft of white in the distance.

Clumped behind me is Andre, Cat, Robbie, Trina, and Beck - who has done little more than pout since Tori and I showed up, but didn't dampen our good time. As much as I want to be friends with him, and I really do, I can't even let my eyes sit on him for too long without my chest getting heavy. You'd think that after a month and finding yourself in a relationship with someone else would at least bandage the wounds of a breakup, but three years of loving someone doesn't just go away. I cross my arms tightly over my chest and close my eyes, letting my hip rest against the car door. I hate myself for letting it still get to me like this when it happened so long ago, especially after everything that's happened since then. Tori, namely, who has been my beacon of light through all of this, and has trusted herself with me. I trust her more than anyone - more than I ever did Beck, which is saying something, and means something. So why can't I just get over him already?

A scuttle of heels behind me alarms me of someone approaching, so I compose myself and turn. Trina is strutting ahead of the group, eyes set on me like a lioness about to pounce, and I narrow my gaze back at her challengingly. I understand that dating Tori is a full package deal - I have to put with Trina, despite knowing that she's a big-headed, egotistical chump. I still don't have to like it, though.

"Hey," Trina says as she comes to my side. The rest of my friends gather on the other side of the car, saying goodbyes, as it looks like Robbie and Beck are taking their leave now instead of waiting for Tori. No surprise there. Beck looks over at me for an instant before turning his back to me and walking off. I shake my head and return my focus to Trina.

I give her a push of my lips - my way of smiling without having to commit to any real feelings - and dip my head forward in acknowledgement. I don't say anything because I don't have anything to say, and filling the space between us with empty words would feel a lot worse on my part than just ignoring her altogether. Trina seems to have a plan, however, and dismisses my nonverbal dismissal with putting her hands on her hips and jutting her face out.

"So. You're dating my sister." Trina's eyes are narrowed so far I can't see her eyes, and her expression is so grave and serious I almost laugh right into her face.

"Nope," I reply quickly without missing a beat, using my acting skills well by keeping my face carefully passive. "I was actually using her to get to my true goal. You, of course. I mean, how could I date the younger Vega when you're clearly the superior of the two?"

Trina's face does a rather amazing thing, morphing between so many expressions at once, I'm sure she's breaking a record - shock, disgust, disbelief, something akin to pride, as if she truly believed me.

"Your mom's pretty hot too, though, so either one would be great," I tack on, and finally Trina's spazzing facial muscles relax into an unamused scowl. "What?"

"I'm serious. She's my baby sister and I'm trying to look out for her."

I sigh, roll my eyes and my shoulders, and tilt my head back to look at the sky. To be honest, I'm kind of surprised - I didn't know Trina was capable of empathy, of actually caring about anyone other than herself. But she seems sincerely concerned, which almost kind of offends me - what does she expect of me? She doesn't even know me.

What's taking Tori so long? I lean to look around Trina and find the girl in question at the door of the Karaoke Dokie, chatting away with the security guard. Knowing her amazing social skills, they're probably best friends by now. The security guard is laughing pretty hard.

"Hello?" Trina's hand obscures my vision as it flies back and forth in front of my eyes. "I'm talking to you."

"Yeah, I can hear you, unfortunately." I press a finger into my ear and wiggle it, looking back to Trina. "What do you think I'm going to do to Tori? Saw open her chest and bake her heart into a pie? Turn her into a Satanist? Force her to become a country singer?"

Trina gasps, a hand flying to her mouth. "You wouldn't."

I roll my eyes even harder. "I was kidding, Jesus. I'm not a Satanist and I certainly don't eat heart pies -"

"No, the country singing. That's just pure evil, Jade."

I blink, hold her eyes, and after a moment, I realize that she's suppressing a grin, that she's trying to friendly. She wants to be my friend. Or, well, feels obligated to try and be my friend, because I'm dating her sister. This stuns me into silence, and I end up just staring blankly at Trina until I hear approaching footsteps, leaning around Trina once more to see Tori rushing towards us.

"Sorry!" She says as she comes up to Trina's side, hair windswept and her smile huge and looking gorgeous, as usual. "Got caught up talking to Bruce. Did you know he got run over by a bus and survived?" She grins and looks to her sister. "I hear he's single, too."

Trina's attention abandons me completely, her thoughts now pivoting to instead root themselves in the security guard walking away from the now abandoned and dark Karaoke Dokie to his car. "Oh, really?" She muses, a sly grin taking form on her lips.

Tori laughs. She looks to me, then, and holds my eyes. I stare back at her, chewing my lip, because the moon is washing her face in silver and it's beautiful - she's beautiful, and before I can think to stop my tongue, I'm saying it aloud - "You're beautiful."

The statement is so unexpected - by her and me - that we both blink in surprise and stare at each other, as if we had sprouted second heads. And then Tori is blushing and ducking her head, her fingers curling a swirl of hair behind her ear.

"You're beautiful, too," she says, stepping away from Trina, closer to me. My cheeks grow hot as she looks up at me, studying me like my face holds the answers to some crucial exam. And then she laughs, shaking her head and looking down at her toes. On the other side of the car, Andre and Cat chat, and over Tori's shoulder, Trina is watching the security guard pull away, who gives her a quizzical look through his window. But I barely notice them - I'm completely absorbed in Tori. "Isn't this just the strangest thing?"

"What?" I question, ducking my head slightly to catch her eyes.

"You and me. It's all so crazy how it worked out."

I smile at her. She's definitely right. It's bizarre how everything played for us. I nudge my foot closer and extend a hand, curling a finger beneath her chin and pushing it up. Her eyelashes shift thin shadows across her brilliant cheekbones before she looks up. The moonlight catches in her chocolate irises. "Yeah," I agree, suddenly breathless, and then I'm kissing her because I can't think of anything I'd rather be doing. A soft noise comes from her which makes my blood sing loud in my ears. I take her hips and press her against the car, eyes closing. Her tongue glides along my lower lip and it's my turn to make involuntary sounds in my throat and the gap of skin between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her jeans sears against my palm and -

"Ahem."

My eyes open. Over Tori's ear and across the car is Andre and Cat both gawking at us. My lips leave them and shift to Trina, who has her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed to mere slits. Tori's giggling against my cheek.

"Er, well - I'm not sorry," I decide, leaning away so Tori can wiggle out and walk around the car.

"Let's go," Tori suggests, and we all climb into my car. The radio is cranked as loud as our ears will allow and we scream the lyrics all the way to Andre's house first, and then Cat's. When it's just Tori and Trina left, the music is turned down some, and we sit in silence as I slowly navigate the path back to the Vega house. I pull into the driveway and Tori twists in her seat to give Trina a pointed look, who stares back blankly for some time before finally jumping.

"Oh! Yeah, okay. Don't make out for too long or Dad will throw a fit." She raises her eyebrows at me. I give her a salute as she gets out of the car and makes her way to the house.

I heave a sigh and turn my head, smiling tiredly at Tori. She mimics me, reaching across the console to find my hand. I squeeze hers, running my thumb along the back of her hand.

"Have you talked to your mom yet?" She asks.

I shake my head. "I haven't had much of a chance. She's never there."

Tori's looks away and back again, voice unsteady this time. "Do you want to tell her?"

I press my lips together and pause for a moment to think. Telling her will only widen the gap between my mother and I, but it's not like I've ever expected us to be close. This would just give her another reason to stay away from me, which honestly doesn't bother me all that much. It'd be nice, of course, to have a mom like Tori's, but I have long since given up the dreams of having the mom I knew pre-divorce.

Eventually, my shoulders rise and fall. "It's not like she needs to know or anything. It's none of her business. But she knew about Beck, so it's only fair she knows about you, too."

"You don't think she'll do anything drastic, do you?"

I frown. "I don't really know. She made it clear that dating you would be rough on my career, but I don't think she'd throw me out or anything."

Tori's hand tightens around mine. "I can't even imagine that, Jade. I'm so sorry."

I shrug again and look at her. Her face is warped in genuine concern which surprises me - probably because I'm so used to the situation that is my parents that I'm pretty numb to it at this point. It's just the way it is and I've never been one to grieve about shit like that. I have better things to do than waste away wishing my mom wasn't a bitch.

"Don't worry about it. Really, Tori, it's not even a big deal. I'm fine."

"I know. But if you're ever not, my house is totally your second home."

"My first home, actually." I smile and lean closer, capturing her lips. She smells like french fries and the Karaoke Dokie.

Tori grins against my lips before pulling away, one hand lingering soft and warm on my cheek. For the second time she's searching my eyes like I hold something hidden and important there, and then she reaches for the door handle and sets one foot on the ground. "Is Sunday still our special day?"

My face takes on an appalled expression. "I'm offended you even have to ask. Of course. Let's keep it low key, though - I'll come over and we'll watch reality TV all day. How's that sound?"

"Perfect," she says, laughing as she climbs out of the car. "Goodnight."

" 'Night."

The door shuts and Tori wiggles her fingers at me before bounding up to her house. I wait until the door closes before I drive home, grinning like an idiot, and my cheeks throbbing to show for it. I haven't smiled this much since my parents took me to Disneyland when I was five and I ('accidentally' was the official report) shoved Mickey into a mud puddle.

I pull into my driveway and am surprised to see my mom's car. An orange rectangle of light shines from the living room. I can't help but think that Tori jinxed my good luck with not having to see my mother. Now is the first time I've regretted telling Trina and Tori's parents about our relationship, because this means I can't spend the night at the Vega's anymore. Apparently Trina had loudly complained about the double standard. Sighing, I shove myself out of the car and make my way up to the front door, letting myself in as quietly as possible. I'm hoping I can just make it to my room without her noticing me at all. Moving slowly, I take off my boots and jacket, and then tip-toe toward the living room entryway. I can see the back of my mom's head, bent over the coffee table. The TV is on but the volume is too low to be heard. Holding my breath, I start to walk down the hallway. I'm nearly to the basement door when her voice speaks up so suddenly I nearly yelp.

"Is that you?"

Mentally cursing, I grab the door handle and rip it open. "No, I'm the Hamburglar," I mutter before raising my voice to shout back, "Yeah."

"Come here for a second."

I consider ignoring her completely and just going down to my room. I don't know if she'd follow me or not. Even though there is always tension between us and an obviously negative dynamic overall, we don't fight often because we hardly speak to each other. Still, I figure I might as well seize the opportunity and tell her about Tori and I for the sake of getting it over with, because God knows she doesn't pay enough attention to me to figure it out on her own.

Stomping my feet loudly, I trudge my way back to the living room. She's twisted over the seat, a pen in one hand and her cellphone in the other.

"Where've you been all day?" She asks, like she gives a shit.

I cross my arms and lean against the threshold. "Out with friends. Since when do you care?"

My mother's face remain's blank. She's good at that - she wanted to be an actress when she was my age, too, but had now settled for being a talent agent. "You don't have to be so snarky. I'm your mother. It's my business to know what you're doing."

I bite my tongue at the dozens of remarks that come to mind. Somehow managing to do that and keep my eyes from rolling right out of my skull, I glare at her in silence before I say, "Fine. What do you want?"

"I ran into Beck's mother today at Starbucks. She said you and Beck haven't made up yet." Her shoulders shrug beneath her cardigan. "Just wondering what that was all about, because you know the public loves a power couple. You and Beck fit the profile perfectly. They would just eat it up."

A tense muscle flickers in my cheek. She's been telling me stuff like this since I was young, like I was some kind of project she wanted to get an A on. "I don't know how many times I have to repeat myself before you retain this information. Beck broke up with me. We are no longer together. We aren't going to make up. And I don't really give a shit about being a power couple."

My mom blinks slowly at me, one eyebrow twitching downward. Then, she relaxes and shrugs again, as if it doesn't bother her either way. "Fine. Are you seeing any other boys?"

The emphasis on the last word seems purposeful, and I don't miss it. "My love life is suddenly of interest to you?"

"Every aspect of your life is of interest of me, " she replies. "It's my job to make people famous. I need to know what I'm working with here."

The phrase fuck off comes to mind, but I swallow it down. Giving my best fake smile, I dip my head down in a deep nod. "Why, then you'll be so pleased to hear this. I am dating someone."

The longer I don't elaborate, the more frustrated my mother's expression becomes. Her head lowers and she glares up at me with a look that I guess is supposed to be intimidating, but to me, she looks kind of constipated. Which makes me laugh, which makes her even more angry, which makes everything much more funny.

"If you're telling me that you are dating that - whatever her name was, that Jori girl -"

"Oh my god, it's not a tough name to remember, Jesus Christ." I push off of the entryway and watch as she stands up, the couch still between us. I place my hands together and and raise my eyebrows at her. "Say it with me. Tor. Ee. Tori. Tori Vega. She's my girlfriend, mom."

The word makes my mom's lips part in a gasp before they press shut again. She takes a step around the couch but doesn't move any farther. "You have no idea what a mistake you're making. This could ruin your whole career. A fling with a girl will haunt you for the rest of your life." She tightens her jaw, voice low but firm. "And I will not endorse you after graduation if this continues. I will not be your agent. It would be a fruitless effort and it will be entirely your fault."

"What the fuck am I to you?" My voice is much louder than hers, the sudden volume making my mother flinch briefly before she grows stern again. "Your daughter, or a financial investment?"

"Watch your mouth," she growls, but she doesn't argue my point - which only serves to prove it.

I take two large steps until I'm almost nose-to-nose with her. Her eyes are a darker shade of green than mine, almost hazel, and she's a tad taller than me - but this close, I can see myself in her. The sudden closure of the distance makes her visibly uneasy, shifting her weight onto one foot while the other slides backward, about to step away. I tilt my face closer to hers and whisper, "Fuck you," before spinning and marching away from her. The basement door slams so hard I swear the entire lower level of the house shakes.

Swiping my PearPod from my dresser, I shove the buds into my ears and play the music as loud as it goes before crashing on top of my bed. I think of Tori. I think of tomorrow. I think of going home.


	26. Chapter 26

**_|Tori|_ **

When Jade was dating Beck, I witnessed them make out. A lot. She definitely wasn't afraid to grab him by the neck and latch herself to his face in the middle of the hallway. Usually she did so possessively, like she was always making a statement, staking a claim. Back then, I hadn't ever really paid enough attention to the technique she used, the way she kissed him, because I never had a reason to. I never imagined I would be in Beck's place with Jade's lips crushing mine, her hands on my hips, being the object of her possession as opposed to being an outsider looking in.

I've gotta say, it feels awesome being on the receiving end.

Jade's breath is cool against my mouth as she pulls back for a brief breath before collapsing against me again. My hands are on her neck, sliding up to tangle at the base of her head. Black tendrils of hair coil around my fingers. Her hands squeeze either of my hips, a nonverbal request for me to scoot back, so I do, sliding along my mattress until my back and head are propped against the pillows. Before Jade came over, I spent a good hour cleaning my room for no particular reason - I just wanted it to look nice. I had slaved over my bed - straightening the corners, making sure the pillows were arranged according to size and separated by purple or white so no same color touched, smoothing out the wrinkles, which was all for naught, clearly. They're surely disheveled now.

Her tongue - a brilliant creature, let me tell you - slides in almost expectantly, slipping around mine before disappearing again. She tastes strongly of the orange-flavored gum I saw her toss into the trash when she first arrived, bearing a single sunflower. "Because, you know, you're the sun," she had said, blushing and shuffling her feet, and that's when I had tackled her with my mouth and we had yet to separate.

Our one month anniversary was Friday, but I had to go to the dentist after school and Jade and I both had rehearsal Saturday for Hollywood Art's annual Big Talent Show. We decided to wait and celebrate until today, Sunday, because it's always been our day, no matter what.

The time has literally blipped by faster than a few blinks. Our fellow students at school have adjusted to the point that they're no longer staring at us when we hold hands in the hallways or when I plop down in her lap at the lunch table. Robbie has started spending a few days of the week sitting with us, too, dividing his time between us and Beck, who has formed a new group of friends and kept his distance. It's sad, but neither Jade nor I really know what to do about it. He's shut us out. There isn't much we can do.

I know it still bums Jade out sometimes. She didn't just lose her boyfriend two months ago - she lost her best friend, someone she trusted and cared about more than anyone else. She hasn't cried about it since the first week of the break-up, but whenever he does come up, she becomes significantly more sad, so I change the subject pretty quickly. It's not that I want her to forget Beck, necessarily, but I do want her to put him behind her. I just don't know how long that'll take.

Most of my free time is spent with her. We go to Starbucks after school or go for walks around LA, giggling at tourists. Last Sunday, we brought Cat and Andre with us to the beach and spent the afternoon there - I still have the peeling sunburn on my shoulders to show for it - and sometimes we just lay around my house doing nothing special, but we never go to hers. I actually haven't been there since I spent the night all those weeks ago, when we were kind of together and kind of not. Jade says that her mother has been hanging out there a lot more often on purpose, to try and catch her with me, and she doesn't want to have any confrontation. "It's going to happen sooner or later," I try to tell her, but she insists on pushing it as far into the future as possible. Knowing how touchy the mom subject is, I've learned to let it go.

Even though I knew before we were dating that she makes me deliriously happy, I didn't expect to enjoy her company as much as I do. When I'm not with her, I'm anxiously waiting for the next time I do. We text. We call. We leave each other stupid jokes on our Slap pages (which have been altered to our appropriate relationship status - 52 likes!) and slip notes into the gaps of our locker doors. We're in constant communication even if we're not together and it makes my heart sing.

It makes me worry, though - I don't want to crowd her. I don't want to make her feel trapped. I actually planned on discussing that today before I got so ... distracted. Speaking of which, Jade's cold fingers are disappearing under my shirt, up my shirt, splaying on the flat plane of my stomach.

Physically, our relationship has been ... blossoming. I tend to lose my senses when she gets close to me, which is why a simple kiss almost always turns into a heavy make out session. Jade doesn't seem to mind. With past boyfriends I've always been at least a little tough to crack, but Jade's a force like gravity and I can't fight physics. There are laws, after all.

I gasp loudly when Jade pulls back - I didn't realize just how long I had been holding my breath. Head spinning and white dots clouding my vision like confetti, Jade bows over my neck, pieces of her hair falling across my open mouth as teeth pluck at the flesh above my jugular. An embarrassing moan comes out of me before I can stop it, my teeth grinding tightly shut. Jade is chuckling.

"That was interesting," she muses. Her tongue runs over my skin and goosebumps race across my arms. "You're fascinating, Tori."

I let out a breathy laugh, only to bite down on it when Jade clips at me with her teeth again. I've never been bitten before - save for the few times Trina and I got into wrestling matches as kids and she decided that chomping on my flesh was the only way to ensure victory - and I never really fancied myself for someone who was into that kind of thing but, wow, I am totally into that kind of thing. Or maybe it's just because it's Jade. A lot of things seem to be exclusively dependent on her.

"Actually," I somehow manage through the whirlwind of my brain. I don't get any further, though, because now Jade is sucking on my neck and it feels amazing. Eyes closing, my hands clench around her shoulders.

After a few minutes, moist lips travel to my ear. "Actually?" She prompts, sounding impossibly cool considering the circumstances. It's kind of unfair that she can remain so lucid when I feel like a pile of goop, so I urge her backward and meet her eyes. She cocks her studded brow at me, grinning with half of her mouth as I nudge her backward. She obliges, falling on her back and propping herself on her elbows.

"Actually," I repeat. I straddle her waist. She smirks up at me and, jeez, she's pretty. My thumbs slide the along either side of her jaw to her ears and then I kiss her, holding her back if she tries to take control, making sure that I stay in the lead. She's wearing a loose-fitting blacktop with one long sleeve, the other cut off at the shoulder, and I run my fingertips along her warm flesh until I feel her bra-strap. Her chest stutters beneath me, abandoning the strap to instead flatten my hand over her chest until I curl them around her breasts. It's a bold move, one that leaves us both breathless, and when I pull back Jade is panting, eyes closed and her mouth damp and open. I kiss it again before pulling reluctantly away. My blood is a loud zing in my ears that no amount of shaking or deep breaths seems to hinder. Settling on her hips, I whip my hair back with one hand and grin down at her. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Jade huffs, then laughs, her torso shaking between my legs. I roll off of her and lay on my side, cheek in my hand. She rustles her fingers into her thick, black hair before facing me again, pursing her lips. "And what would that be?"

"Okay." I switch to my stomach and clap my hands together, looking at my knuckles as I try to put my thoughts into sentences. Finally, I look at her. "Well, okay. So. Things are going good, right?"

"Well."

"What?"

"Going well. See, if you had been paying attention in English on Friday instead of staring down my shirt, you would know that."

My cheeks sizzle. "I - I was not!"

Jade snorts. "Sure you weren't, horndog. Anyway, yeah, things are going well. Great, even."

My expression softens. I meet her eyes and give her a slow smile. "Really?"

"Yeah." Her own smile is sincere. I find her hand and press my warm cheek against her cool palm.

"Good. Because, you know, we're together a lot and we spend a lot of time talking and I just wanted to make sure I wasn't crowding you or anything, you know? I don't want you to feel cramped with me."

Her eyes are heavy on me for a moment, like lush trees after a hard rain. And then she shakes her head and gives me an incredulous smile. "Tori, you do the exact opposite of crowding. You open me up. You make it easier to breathe."

I feel my mouth drop open and though I prepared to say something, nothing comes out for several long seconds. I mange to squeak out a "Really?" to which she nods, laughing as she rolls forward and kisses my cheek. I catch her on the way back, meeting her mouth this time, the kiss free of tongue or anything sensual; it's just fervor, a nonverbal thank you, because that relieves me so much.

"Can we go back to the heavy petting?" Jade mumbles, her voice so husky I feel tingles crawling along my spine. I giggle, pulling back a little to narrow my eyes at her.

"Actually," I start, to which Jade sighs and folds her hands behind her head. "What? You just want to make out all the time?"

"I like making out. You're hot," she says, so casually I'm not sure how to respond. I end up just coughing and blushing and looking away before she prompts, "But, eh, I guess talking with you is okay, too. Because you're still hot."

I stick out my tongue at her. Taking one of her hands again, I busy myself with folding and unfolding her fingers. "Okay, don't get upset."

"That's some awful foreshadowing, Tori."

"Just, you know, don't get all defensive until I explain myself, all right?"

Jade's cheeks inflate with a huff. Then, with slight wave of her hand, she replies, "No promises."

"Okay." I sit on my knees and look down at her, fingernails scratching along the denim of my jeans. "Okay," I repeat, sucking in a long breath. "I want to have dinner with your mom."

Silence. I watch Jade's face closely, how she struggles to keep it passive but fails ultimately - her eyebrows dig downward and a hand crooks over her eyes.

"Jesus, Vega, if you were only using me to get into my mom's pants -"

"Oh, shush. I'm serious, Jade. I want to know your mom. I want to at least give her a chance to get to know me. Who knows? We might get along fabulously, become best friends." She shoots me a look from under her hand. "...Okay, maybe not that fabulously, but you know my mom. I at least want to talk to her a little bit about this. I mean, it is my business now."

Jade sucks her lower lip into her mouth and chews on it. With the arm over her face, I can't really read her, so I just sit and wait, digging under my nails. Eventually, she comes out, but not without a loud, complaining sigh.

"She's not a pleasant lady, Tori. She's nothing like your mom."

"You make me sound like I live in a padded bubble." I cross my arms. "I've met mean people before, you know, and have learned how to deal with them. You forget you were unpleasant to me for two years." I raise my eyebrows at her. "I'm a big girl, thank you. I think I can handle it."

"So fierce," Jade mumbles, rocking a little so she could catapult herself into a sitting position. "It means that much to you for you to get to know my bitchy mom?"

I nod.

Her chest rises and falls. "Okay. I'll talk to her about it, but I can't guarantee she'll agree - hmph!"

I smother her in a kiss, forcing her to swallow her words. "Thank you, thank you!" With a loud gasp, I tear off of her, leaving her breathless and empty on the bed as I sprint across my room. "I almost forgot, your anniversary gift!"

Jade spins to watch me as I lift a small blue box with a gold bow on top from my dresser. She frowns. "Shit, Tori, that flower cost me like five bucks, you didn't have to actually buy me anything -"

"Sh." I fold one knee on the bed and sit, holding the box out to her. She frowns deeper, takes it, and pulls the bow free from one end. I watch her face as she lifts the top, her green eyes slowly widening to almost cartoonish levels. I laugh before I can stop myself.

"Tori," she breathes, setting the box down so she can pick its contents up. It's a pair of upside down scissors. At the end of the blades, a chain connects, just long enough so the scissors would come to rest just at her sternum. They're silver, about the size of my palm, and can actually cut things - I know, I made sure before I bought them.

"You like them?" I grin as she runs her thumb along the edge of the scissors.

"They're amazing," she replies. Handing the necklace to me, I unclip the chain and wait for her to spin around and lift her hair. I slip it over her head and clasp it shut again before leaning down and kissing where the chain meets her skin.

The moment feels so clean, so us, that I lose almost all fear when thinking about Jade's mother. Whether or not she likes me or approves of this, I'm not going anywhere.


	27. Chapter 27

**_|Jade|_ **

My mom is locking me in a cold cell. I'm lying on the floor, cold cement crushed beneath my cheek, and I staring up at her at a very uncomfortable angle, neck straining.

She has a grin on her face that's unique to her and the Joker, all sharpened teeth from one ear to the other. The key to the cell is clasped in one gnarled hand, her claws curving like talons as she raises the appendage above her head. Her fingers pinch the handle of the key above her gaping mouth before releasing it. It slides down her throat with a grotesque gulping sound and I can see the outline of the key as it travels down her esophagus. Looking at me again, that massive mouth creaks open once more, but the noise that comes out of it is not a laugh, but the hair-rising screech of a dry marker running against an erase board.

A jolt shakes me awake. I lift my head, blurry and disoriented, and I'm not in a cell at all - well, I guess a classroom could be considered a cell on a bad day, but this is just pre-calculus. I'm just sitting in my desk. The teacher is just getting a new marker from his desk drawer.

"Are you okay?"

I glance sidelong at Cat. Her red hair is bunched at the base of her head today in an intricate bun that would probably require a map to undo. I give her one corner of my mouth lifting as a smile. "Yeah, just tired," I whisper back to her, scooping up my discarded pencil and pinching it between my fingers. Cat continues to stare at me suspiciously for a few moments longer before returning her attention back to the teacher.

This week has been hell. Every moment I'm awake - and apparently every moment I'm sleeping, too - I feel like I'm being strangled by the daunting task of asking my mother for a goddamn dinner date with Tori. I've been putting it off until tomorrow every day, but now that it's Friday, I don't have any tomorrows left. Unless I push it off another week, which would not amuse Tori in the slightest, I have to ask her. Today.

I move through the rest of my classes robotically, not really speaking again until I run into Tori at the end of the day. Of course, she's bright and bubbly as usual, and I really do try to pay attention to what she's saying as she all but skips beside me to our respective cars, but my mind is back in that creepy cell my mom locked me in in my nightmare, and I'm wasting way too much effort trying to analyze it.

When we reach her car first, she stops, spins to face me, and holds both of my hands in hers. I focus on her face, trying to banish my mother altogether. The sun makes the brown of her irises almost look caramel-y, bronze skin glowing, and her hair is twirling down her shoulders like the dwindling strips of syrup after you've squeezed the bottle - like she's made of candy. Tori's smile dims until there's nothing but grave seriousness left. Her upper teeth glide over her lower lip before she parts them to speak.

"Are you okay?"

It's the second time I've been asked that question today. I nod, just like I did to Cat, but know that Tori requires an explanation. "Yeah. Just, you know. Mom."

Tori nods, lips pressing in a flat line before she squeezes my hand. "Look, we don't have to do this if you don't want to. If you're really that uncomfortable with it -"

"No." I shake my head sharply, making her teeth click shut. "Seriously, it doesn't matter if I want to or not. I have to. We have to. It's the goddamn twenty first century and I'm not going to hide this, hide you, like it's the fucking Middle Ages, okay?"

Tori's biting a grin back. I smile, leaning my head down so I can capture those incredible lips with my own. Maybe it's just my earlier descriptions of her, but she even tastes like candy. She's braces against her car door by the time I pull away, deliciously breathless.

"Mom freaks me out. I'll admit that. But I'll be damned if I let that get in the way of this." I cock my head at her, narrowing my eyes. "I kind of fancy you, after all."

"Kind of?" She repeats, head tilting in the opposite direction. Her lower lip devours the upper in thought, one of her hands raising so her thumb and forefinger can stroke her chin. "Hm. I might fancy you as well. Indeed."

"Quite."

She kisses me this time, and then I watch her pull away as I drop into my own car. On my way home, I pass the Starbucks where Beck broke up at me and I'm acutely aware of how nothing hurts when I look at it.

I seem to have really terrible fucking luck when it comes to jinxing myself, because as soon as I think about what great progress I'm making, I see Beck's car idling outside of my house. I'm not terribly surprised - when we were together and got into a fight, there was a long period of silent treatment before he finally caved and beat me home after school as his way of surrendering. But we're not together, and this isn't like that, so I'm wary when I pull into my driveway and turn my car off. Walking back down the driveway, I watch as Beck steps out of his car and hangs his head, fingers sliding into his pockets as he leans against the hood. He's in jeans and a brown button-up that's left open, a white tank beneath. He's darker than Tori and rougher in places that I shouldn't remember as well as I do - the scruff of his chin, the hard board of his abs, his little bony as fuck kneecaps. An immense sensation of deja vu consumes me from the inside out, because I have been in this exact situation before a hundred times. All that's left for him to do is to say he's sorry, bat his puppy dog eyes at me to make me laugh, and for me to forgive him with a long kiss.

I cross my arms and remind myself of what I just thought when I was passing the Starbucks - that it didn't hurt. And while that still remains true, it doesn't make the whole break-up and everything that came with instantly disappear. Starbucks was the Break Up Place, but this is the Break Up Guy, and that's a whole different dilemma.

I know Beck senses the familiarity of the situation, too. It's apparent in the way that he doesn't say anything for several long moments, not sure how to act when the circumstances are so different. I'm not sure either, obviously, but he came here, so I'm willing to wait for an explanation.

Finally, Beck relents. He coughs, lifts his head, and I half expect him to apologize and blink at me like he used to, but instead he says, "I miss you."

My eyes roll so hard I risk spraining them. "How many times are you going to say that?"

"Until you believe me."

"Oh, I believe you." I narrow my gaze at him again. "Staring at me in the hallway, following Tori and I from class to class, using Robbie as your little spy. How could I think you don't miss me?" I watch with quivering eyebrows as Beck looks shamefully at his lap. "What? Did you forget that I'm, like, actually not a dumbass?"

"Look," Beck starts, one hand planting on the back of his neck, fingers pressing into the muscles there. "I wasn't following you, I was just trying to find an opportunity to talk to you. You're always with ..." Beck stops, swallows, and cranes his neck. "Her."

"Her name is Tori. You can say it."

Beck's lips twitch before stilling again, like he's resisting the urge to bear his teeth at me like a dog. "Whatever. I wasn't stalking you or anything. I just wanted to talk."

I spread my hands. "Well, here's your chance, Beck."

He raises his head. "I think ..." His mouth remains open for a beat, closes, then parts again. Straightening his back, his eyes close. "I think I made a mistake."

I'm not sure what I'm hearing. I narrow my eyes on him further until they're nothing but slits. "What? In telling me that you were all gung-ho about being buddies with me, but as soon as I start dating someone else, you avoid me like a fucking leper?"

Beck's face tenses. In the three years we dated, I can probably count on one hand the amount of times I saw him genuinely angry, and already this is surpassing the others by leagues. "It isn't just someone else, Jade. It's Tori."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I snap back at him. "Was I supposed to wait until you gave me a list of appropriate suitors? Or should I have sent Tori to you first to get your approval?" I thrust a finger into my sternum, feeling my anger manifest in my face as a dangerous red. "I'm your ex-girlfriend, Beck, not your fucking ward to give away when it pleases you."

He shakes his head all through my words, not listening, shaking them out of his ears as soon as they enter. "Jade," he says, tone exasperated, as if he's already exhausted with dealing with me since arriving five minutes ago. "It would be like if I dated Cat," he says, the same thing Tori said a few weeks ago. "Or, since you apparently are into girls - if I dated Andre. Or Robbie. Don't tell me that wouldn't come off as just a little weird, Jade."

I've done my best not to put myself in Beck's shoes, but now I'm forced to - I imagine him kissing Cat, or even Tori. I imagine him holding Andre's hand, or kissing Robbie on the cheek before taking off for class. I try to be the person I was right when the break up happened, before Tori repaired me, and see Beck with someone I thought of as a friend, and, shit, that does fucking hurt.

"Okay." I give a sigh. "Okay, all right, I get it. But I've been with her for a month, Beck. We haven't been together for over two." I lift my arms and let them drop. "I'm moving on. I with someone who makes me happy. I'm happy. And if you ever gave a shit about me, then that would be enough for you."

"But it's not," Beck counters, stepping up on the curb. Only a short yard separates us now, the closest we've been since that night at the Karaoke Dokie. "I made a mistake, Jade." His eyes are wide and earnest, voice high, and I start to take a step back because this isn't a Beck I've seen before. "I shouldn't have broken up with you. I love you."

A loud pounding in my ears alerts me of the presence of my heart, hurling itself without mercy against my heaving ribcage. What I wouldn't have given to hear those words two months ago. If he had said that even an hour after breaking up with me, I would have lost myself in his arms and never looked back. I would have been his forever, and married him, grown old with him, popped out some kids, and never cast another look in anyone else's direction. And the sick part is, a part of me still wants that, something normal and safe with him, something I'm familiar with and something I'm good at. A relationship that wouldn't give my mom more reason to resent me, one that wouldn't jeopardize my future career - Beck is simple and easy and safe.

If Tori wasn't in the picture, I would probably take him back right now, right at this very moment.

But she is. She's the whole picture. I let down my walls and she accepted me. She opened her arms and let me fall into them, kissed my wounds, helped them heal, treated me like I was worthy of kindness even though we both knew I wasn't. Tori peeled back her layers and let me look inside with every bit of faith she had in me, trusting me not to hurt her. And I did hurt her as I'm prone to do, but she forgave me. I like her. I like her so much. I want to be around her all the time, I want to talk to her about everything, I want to pick out an apartment with her and buy furniture and groceries and support one another at auditions. I want that right now - it doesn't matter what I did want with Beck before.

I'm not Beck's Jade anymore. I'm Tori's.

"No," I tell him, shaking my head firmly. I feel confident. I feel strong. I puff out my chest with it and watch Beck lower from the curb. "I'm not in love with you anymore, Beck," I say, glad to know that that is nothing but the truth. I'm not. I haven't been for awhile. "I'm falling for someone else." I feel my throat start to choke up because Beck is crying, openly letting tears pool in his eyes and streak down his face. I've never seen him cry before, and it tears at a piece of me that hurts moreso than the rest. "And I'm sorry you regret it now, but that was all you. You broke up with me. You ended this." I motion between us with a wave of my hand. "This isn't my fault or Tori's. It's yours. Stop trying to make me feel bad about it."

Beck blinks. A moment later, he's running the back of his hand over his cheeks and looking away, face grim and stone-hard. And then he nods, turns on his heel, and climbs into his car. He drives away without looking at me and I walk up to my house while holding my upper body with my arms. I cry on the living room couch - not because I want Beck, really, but because there's a feeling of finality about the whole thing that I can't hold back and Tori has turned me into a more emotional person.

When I recover, I call my mom on her cellphone. She doesn't answer on the first ring, or the second, but I keep calling until she does. She can't ignore me forever, not on her work phone. On the sixth time she finally picks up, voice gruff and angry. "I'm with a client, make it quick."

"Tomorrow night, I need you to put your work on hold for once in your life and make room for me."

She's silent for a few moments, then, "Why?"

"Dinner. With me and Tori. Trust me, it wasn't my idea. She wants to get to know you. She wants to talk about this."

More silence. I hear papers shuffling. "Just a moment," she says in a kinder, sweeter tone, that is obviously not directed to me. I hear her footsteps echoing in her earpiece. "I already told you I am not approving of this life decision," she says. "If this is some attempt to get me to like her, it's wasted. You and her both are destroying your chances."

"Yeah, blah blah, build a bridge and get over that part of the situation for five minutes, 'kay? I'm asking for dinner with me and my girlfriend. You're either coming or you're not. Whatever. Just let me know so I can tell Tori."

The silence this time is so long I think she might have hung up on me. A loud breath rattles like static in the receiver. "Tomorrow night. Seven o' clock."

This surprises me so much I don't even know what to say, so I just hang up. I look down at my PearPhone in a detached kind of awe. To be honest, I had expected her to not only outright refuse, but to laugh in my face. But she agreed. Something tells me I should be afraid by this unprecedented change in character, so I am.

I try to picture it - Tori and I on one side of our massive dining table that neither of us has used since my dad moved out and my mom on the other. In one version of the fantasy, Tori and I are making out just to spite her, in another, my mom is shooting knives at us, and in yet another, things are going perfectly swell, and there's a light at the end of the tunnel.

I turn on the TV to a channel documenting open heart surgery to shut my brain up and try not to think of the exposed ribs as prison cell bars.


	28. Chapter 28

**_|Tori|_ **

December in California doesn't promise the same weather as the rest of the States - while the north and much of the east is slathered in snow, we're lucky if it drops anywhere below sixty during the 'winter' months. At the most, I have to grab a light jacket, like the one I'm wearing now. It's plain black and simple, the silver zipper tugged about half way down so the buttons of my dark blue blouse can be seen. But despite both the jacket and the fact that the breeze currently washing against my face isn't even considered chilly, I have goosebumps crawling like ants over my flesh.

Rubbing them, I rest my hip against the my car and sigh. Wind weaves through my hair - I put it up for the occasion, the upper half pulled into a tight bun at the back of my head while the rest twirls down my shoulders in helixes. I also slaved in front of the mirror for an hour and a half with make-up brushes and other appearance enhancing tools before leaving my house, only to stall in front of my car with my keys gripped in my hand. I can feel the skin of my palm digging into the sharp edges and I know that if I were to squeeze a little harder, I'd probably bleed, maybe slice an artery, and then I'd have an excuse to not go to this dinner tonight and I could avoid the entire situation.

My lips droop with a frown. That would be a good plan if Jade didn't know so much about human anatomy (which I blame entirely on the days she spent at the Human Body as a child) and if getting a paper cut wasn't enough to make me tear up and whine.

It also doesn't help matters at all that I was the one who suggested this dinner, who wanted it, who pushed Jade to make it happen, so all of this unease is my fault and I've got no one to blame. It's not that I want to back out or that I don't want to get this whole thing with Jade's mom over with, because I do. I want to sit down and talk to her. I want to try and get her to like me, or at least tolerate me, so my relationship doesn't feel so strained on Jade's end. I don't want Jade to feel like I'm making her connection with her mother that much more impossible.

I know Jade doesn't blame me for any of this. Her and her mother were already on bad terms long before I came into the picture. But that doesn't change the fact that I'm doing nothing but widening the gap. Before, they were at a cease fire. The relationship definitely wasn't healthy, but since there was no communication whatsoever, no one was getting hurt. But now that I've stepped into the picture and upset the already fragile balance, they're at war again.

It's my fault, and I have to at least try and fix it.

Sucking in a breath, I unlock my car and slide in. My phone announces the arrival of a text message with a jingle. I open the message while turning on my car.

Jade West

The monster's not here yet. Food's getting cold though, so get here asap.

I try to relax as I reply with both a smiley and an exclamation point that I'm not necessarily feeling. Pulling out of my driveway, I start toward Jade's house, knuckles popping as my fingers curl around the steering wheel. It's probably stupid, but Jade's mom terrifies me. Having only met her once, I can still recall every detail of her icy expression, how eerily similar it was to the way Jade's used to be. Even imagining her cold eyes on me again, now with an actual reason to hate me, makes the goosebumps on my arms feel like they're never going to go away.

Too soon I'm in Jade's driveway. I busy myself with checking my black dress pants and my blouse for lint or fallen hairs, reapplying my lip gloss in the mirror, adding another squirt of perfume just under my neck, and making sure I didn't forget to put deodorant on before I left the house. Out of excuses, I drag myself out of the car, purse slung over my shoulder, and take careful, even steps to Jade's looming front door. It opens before I get there, one foot on the front porch step and the other still on the ground, frozen in place as Jade is revealed inch by inch. She's in a dress; the bottom half is black and straight, hugging her white thighs so tightly I would have sworn she had painted it on. The top is almost the same shade of blue as my blouse, the deep V of the cut framing the necklace I bought her for our anniversary. The blades are pushed shut, the tip of them resting just above the cleft of her breasts. If that wasn't enough to blow my brains out of my ears, Jade's face is heavily accented by the way her hair is pulled back - a straight, simple ponytail, her face round and completely exposed, making her cheekbones look sharper than ever and her eyes bigger, greener.

It takes me a moment to realize that Jade is staring at me with the same slack-jawed expression, but she snaps out of it first. "Are you psychic?" A groomed eyebrow perks at me as a smirk takes over her lips.

"What?" I glance at my blouse. "Oh! Nope. Total coincidence, I'm afraid. But I'm sure your mother will think we planned it just to spite her. How can she refuse us when we match?"

Jade's lips cock upward. Swinging open her door, I step inside. My purse and jacket hang on hooks in the foyer before Jade's fingers slink into mine and pull me toward the kitchen. I jump when I see a man standing over the stove; he's dark-skinned and wearing an apron, looking up at us from beneath two very thick eyebrows.

"This will not taste as good if you wait much longer," he says, tone gruff and annoyed. "I thought I was serving for three?"

Jade releases my hand and makes her way toward a drawer on the opposite side of the kitchen. When she turns around, she's holding a couple of bills in her hand, which she presses into the man's palm. "Go on home, Chef Freier. I'll take care of the serving." Her face hardens. "If the monster ever shows up."

The chef isn't listening. He gathers a few things before leaving. As soon as the front door closes, I turn to Jade, leaning on the counter island in the middle of the enormous kitchen. "You hired a cook?"

"I have many talents, Tori," Jade says, peering over the edge of the pot on the stove. "I sing like an angel, have acting talents that are envious of Oscar winners, and write plays that demand Broadway attention. Not to mention I can make your knees turn to jelly with a single look." She glances over her shoulder to prove her point, and maybe it's just the fact that's she's pointing it out that makes those eyes even more dazzling, but my legs feel like they're about to give out. "But cooking?" Jade makes a 'tsk' sound with her tongue. "Not a strong suit of mine."

The kitchen smells of spices and meat. Even though it'll probably be delicious, I don't feel hungry. I'm actually quite the opposite - I feel like all of my organs are rearranging themselves, effectively knocking around my stomach in the process. My eyes keep darting toward the kitchen entryway, ears pricked for the sound of a car door closing or heels clicking in the hall.

"Jesus, Tori, you're turning green." Jade circles the island, gathering my face in her hands. Her palms are cool on my cheeks, thumbs swiping below my eyes. "I thought this was what you wanted? Don't tell me you're going to puke because of it."

"No," I say, shaking my head. "I do want it. I want to talk to your mom. I mean, I'm not expecting her to love me, but if I could just tell my side of the story ..." I shrug. Jade's hand all to my shoulders. "I'm just nervous. I don't want to make things even worse."

"Tori." Jade's eyes narrow. "You didn't do anything. Things between my mom and I were shit before I even met you."

"I knew you were going to say that," I sigh, frowning. "And I get that, but, I don't know. If she hates me, whatever, but I don't want her to hate you, too."

Jade's expression stills for a moment. She looks away, teeth gliding over her lower lip before her gaze shifts back to mine. "If my mom hates me, then that's her fault. Not mine, and definitely not yours, okay?" She leans down, lips falling onto mine. They linger for a while, damp and warm, my hand hooking around the back of her neck before she pulls away. Her eyes are closed and her forehead meets mine as she releases a long breath. "She made the first part of my life hell and, regardless of how tonight works out, I'm not going to let her fuck up the rest of it." Thick lashes pull back, green irises finding mine. "Got it?"

I nod. She kisses me again.

We wait a half an hour before Jade says "Fuck it," and starts preparing the plates. By the time we sit down at the dining room table (which is ridiculously massive for a house of two people who never eat together) the food is cold but still delicious. Jade pours us both a small glass of wine. I've never had alcohol in my life, so the burn in my stomach is foreign but not at all unpleasant. She calls her mother twice but gets her voicemail both times. On the second try, Jade leaves a message that includes telling her mother to no longer think of her as a daughter and to enjoy making money off of everyone else's better qualifying kids.

Jade leaves her mother's plate, food untouched and cold, on the table. We migrate to the living room where Jade pulls me into her lap, the TV playing before us but neither of us watching it. She isn't saying much and I leave her to her thoughts, my forehead on her temple and my fingers massaging the tight knots in her shoulder.

Getting stood up by one's own mother is a whole new level of disappointment and hurt. I literally cannot imagine what Jade is feeling because my mom is so completely opposite of Jade's. My mom has always been there, smiling and supportive and wonderful, like a mother should be. Before I was friends with Jade, it never occurred to me that she was so angry all the time because of her home life. At the time, I was naive enough to believe that everyone I knew was happy just because I was. But I'm lucky. I'm extremely blessed and privileged when it comes to my parents and the relationships I have with people. But everyone Jade has loved and trusted has, at one point or another, turned on her. It's a wonder she hasn't given up entirely.

Just as I'm about to pull back and reassure Jade of her strength, her chest heaves painfully hard beneath my arm, and then she's crying. It's not a cute cry, either. She calls her mother every name she can think of, she curses and screams and spews threats that may or may not be empty, her entire body trembling with the intensity of her rage. It's like watching the angry bubbles of a volcano about to boil over, or a mushroom cloud bursting in the sky. And I do nothing but hold her, stroking her neck and back with my palm, because even if this is her letting herself fall apart, I'll put her back together.

This isn't the first time I've seen her cry, but now that I'm so tangled up in her, now that I'm aware of the fact that I'm falling in love with her, it hurts so much. I feel my eyes stinging as she clings to me, her throat raspy from yelling as she sobs into my shoulder. It occurs to me then that, other than maybe Cat, I'm the only person Jade can lean on. She never had her mom and Beck isn't an option anymore. It's just me. I squeeze Jade harder, closer, to try and non-verbally let her know that I'm not going anywhere.

I rock her in my arms and whisper into her ear and refuse to let her go until the shaking stops. It takes a while, but eventually she is still and quiet against me. I dare to pull back. Her eyes are swollen but dry. She avoids my gaze as she runs her fingers under her eyes and leans against the couch. Silence settles between us, loud and heavy.

And then, "I know this is against the rules, but do you think you could stay the night?" Finally, she looks at me, eyes big and hurt and so sad that it breaks my heart. "I really don't want to be alone right now."

"Of course," I reply without even thinking about it. Lifting one finger, I rise from the couch and go back to the front door, fishing my phone out of my purse. My mom, naturally, answers right away - she has never ignored a call from me, thinking that at any moment I might desperately need her, and again I'm reminded that Jade doesn't have what I have and she deserves it so much. I contemplate lying, telling my mom that I decided to stay at Cat's, but the truth comes out in quiet, controlled tones instead. My mom's an understanding person and, even though she's hesitant, she makes me swear not to tell Trina or my father, and then she lets me go, telling me to make sure Jade knows that our home is her home, too.

When I return, Jade has composed herself. The TV is off, leaving the whole house quiet. Jade stands, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress. "Sorry about that," she mumbles, coughing low in her throat.

"Don't apologize." I step toward her, taking one hand when she's within reach. Her eyes scatter across the floor until my hand meets her cheek, forcing her to look at me. "You're not going to let her ruin the rest of your life, right?"

She gives a tight smile. "Right."

I give her the most reassuring look I can. "Good. Now, let's get out of these uncomfortable dress clothes and watch something scary and bloody and gory, since that stuff turns you on."

"You turn me on."

My heart thunders loud in my ears. Ignoring the burning in both my cheeks and other areas of my anatomy, I meet Jade's eyes as boldly as I can. "Well ..." I swallow hard and turn, walking purposefully slowly toward the basement door. "We could always do other stuff."

"Other stuff."

I look over my shoulder. Jade is grinning - Jade is sexy and she is grinning and I am hot all over, pulse throbbing in my neck.

"Other stuff," I repeat, opening the door.

Jade's green eyes are bright and they both say go.


	29. Chapter 29

**_|Jade|_ **

Beck was my first everything. My first real kiss, my first real boyfriend, my first time. We were both virgins, so the whole experience was slow and careful - not awkward, just curious. We spent more time just looking and touching each other than actually having sex, and the sex itself was clumsy and kind of painful as it tends to be. But we got good at it. In almost three years, we had learned each other well. I knew (still know) where and how to touch him. I know his soft spots, his ticklish ones, the parts of him that he likes bitten or scratched. And he had studied me just as closely; he had a firm grasp on what made me feel good and was (is?) an expert in the field of pleasuring me. Beck is still so familiar to me, so safe and close, that when my eyes turn to Tori, who is now sitting tentatively on the edge of my bed as if it might explode, my feet stick to the floor in fear.

It's not that I'm afraid of her or her body or that she's a girl or anything. I have access to the internet and, like everyone else, have ventured in some of the darker corners (those who say otherwise are lying). I know how it works. I know I can figure it out.

It's just that she's not Beck. She's new. I have to re-learn all over again, like getting pulled back a year in school. It's not going to be effortless. I have to pay attention, take notes, remember, and it's not like I don't want to do those things because, especially with the way Tori's biting her lip right now, I definitely want to. I'm just scared that maybe she's something I won't be good at. And I want to be good with her more than anything.

I swallow, watching as Tori bends at the waist to remove her heels. Distracted, I follow suit, kicking them by the side table. Silence is thick between us.

Tori's fingers shift to the top button of her blouse. She fidgets quietly.

"We don't have to do anything," I blurt, sounding more panicked than I had planned. "I mean, not that I don't want to or anything, but I was just joking upstairs. We can watch a movie. We can just sleep. I don't - " I blink at her and I can still feel the soreness in my eyes from my recent crying, a distant pounding still echoing in the back of my head. "I don't want to pressure you into anything."

Tori's smirk is just barely there. "I don't feel pressured," she says. Her fingers pop the button. More caramel flesh is exposed to me, the barest hint of the slope of her breast. I hold my breath. "I know what I'm doing, Jade." Her eyebrows flicker. "Well, I don't, I'm a virgin, obviously, but I know what choice I'm making." She hesitates, frowning across the room at me. "Unless you don't want to do this, of course."

"No, no." I shake my head and both of my hands before running them down the back of my skirt. "No, trust me, I am all aboard this ship. I am the captain of this ship."

"What does that make me?" Tori laughs and bites her lip again and goddamn, that's sexy. Another button is released from her blouse.

I lift one side of my mouth. "The skipper." I take a few steps forward, pausing just short of her side before I take an abrupt turn toward my dresser. I can feel her curious eyes on me as I scoop up my PearPad and put it on the dock. After swiveling through a few screens, I'm shown my playlists. I have several of them - one for when I'm pissed off, another for working out, one for when I'm really pissed off and - there. A set of acoustic songs. I usually listen to it when I'm writing or when I'm trying to calm myself down. It seems appropriate and music kind of is a big deal to both of us. I turn the volume just high enough for both of us to hear it before I turn back to Tori. She's smiling still, her expression breathless.

"You okay?"

Tori takes a deep breath. "Yeah, just. You know." She lifts her hands before letting them slap against her knees. "Don't want to crash the ship."

I laugh, stepping toward her again. Electricity pops in the air between us. The hairs on my arms stiffen. I touch one side of Tori's face and swoop down to meet her lips. She's so goddamn soft when Beck had been all firm and hard edges. I feel like I might break her. "I'll steer us, okay?" I mumble against her lips, feeling them stretch into a slow smile against my own.

Her laugh is broken with her heavy breaths. "Okay."

I open my eyes to study her flushed face. Curling one finger below her chin, I kiss her again, feeling her push herself back across the mattress. My knees plant on either side of her, carefully lowering on top of her hips. Our tongues meet, hot and slick, and her hands are on my bare thighs, fingertips resting just below the edge of my dress.

I can feel her pulse throbbing in her neck when my hand settles there. It's almost frantic. She's warm all over, lips hot, hands trembling, and it takes me a minute to realize that I'm just as nervous as she is. It doesn't matter that I'm not a virgin or that I've been intimate in the past - it's still the first time with Tori. Tori, this unbelievable girl with a heart of gold - no, of fucking sunshine. This person who has decided that for some bizarre reason, I am worth her time and patience and effort, even though I had done nothing in the past to prove it.

Tori - my sun, my skipper, this girl that I'm falling in love with.

The thought stuns me. I sit back, panting, and Tori takes the opportunity to finish unbuttoning her blouse. I don't have much time to sit on the sudden realization because Tori is taking her shirt off and I've seen her in a bikini before, so this view isn't exactly new, but it's different now because it's private. It's for me.

Her skin is a brilliant tan. I lean down and kiss her collarbone. She's hot, scalding my lips, burning my tongue, as her shaking hands swim up my dress. Her nails skim tentatively up the flesh of my thighs and then down again, slipping inward, and, Christ, for someone with little experience in this field, she definitely knows how to drive me completely fucking insane.

"The zipper," I breathe against Tori's neck. She stops. "My dress. The zipper is behind my back."

"Oh," she breathes, giving another breathy laugh as one hand leaves my leg to take hold of the zipper. It ticktacks slowly down until it's far enough that I have enough room to pull the entire garment over my head, leaving me in just my bra and panties in one fell swoop. Tori stares up at me, her chest swelling and deflating at a dizzying speed. I'm a ghost compared to her, my pale flesh practically fluorescent. But she's looking up at me like I'm carved from marble, a Greek statue meant to be admired.

I swing my leg off of her so she can shimmy out of her dress pants. They pool noiselessly to the floor along with my dress. I lean against the pillows at the head of my mattress and take a moment to really look at all of the curves and lines that make Tori up; like the hills of her knees and the dents behind them, the tiny cave of her bellybutton and the swell of each breast. She's beautiful, and I don't realize that I've said it aloud until Tori's face darkens with a blush, her hands reaching behind her head to pull out the bun. A mass of curls tumble down her bare shoulders before she stretches the hairtie back and aims it at me, eyebrows wiggling.

"I dare you," I say, lips splitting in a wide grin. She laughs, directs the tie toward the floor, and lets it go. It bounces and spins beneath my dresser.

Following her lead, I pull my own hair free of the band keeping it held up. There's a definite kink where it had been pinched, black curtains swinging to the sides of my face. Unlike Tori, I don't give her enough time to dare me before I let the hairtie go in her direction, watching her flinch in surprise as it smack against her shoulder. Her lips part in a large 'o', eyebrows all but hurling straight off of her forehead.

"You little -" She crawls across the bed, between my legs, fingers curling into my sides. I give a brief scream as she tickles me, squirming beneath her, laughing loudly into her ear.

I manage to wrestle her to her side, and then to her back, resuming my post on top of her hips again. Tori is grinning anyway, devilishly so, and instead of retaliating with words, I kiss her again. The playfulness melts into something more intimate as her fingers tangle behind my head, the kiss growing in fervor. When her tongue meets mine, I feel her breathe in sharply through her nose, and I take the next step by slipping my hands beneath her back. By the time she's pulled away and blinked, the clasp to her bra is already undone, and she's gazing up at me deliriously, like I make her drunk.

"You're sure?" I chew my lip and watch her breathe, the wheels turning in her eyes, before she swallows and nods, smile eager. Without any more help from me, she pulls her bra off and tosses it on the growing pile of clothes on the floor, props up on her elbows, and kisses me, and then I know for certain that she's sure.

I cup one soft breast in my hand, thumb grazing along her dark nipple. She responds with a sound against my mouth, something carnal and the beginning of a moan. I pepper her jaw with kisses, working my way along her neck. Tori falls completely against the pillows, hands falling beside her bed as I start the heart-pounding journey of exploring her body.

It's a wonderful thing just in the aesthetics, but on a deeper level, it's so much more than that. There's a freckle below her left breast that burns my lips when I kiss it. Her hips are sensitive to my touch, trembling beneath my traveling fingers. Her hands clench in and out of fists as I explore, kissing and licking and fanning over every part of her I can see with my breath. Her breathing becomes so fast that I begin to grow worried, forcing myself to pull out of the wonderland of her body to swim back toward her face, my expression concerned.

"Tori," I whisper, planting a hand just below her breast, cupping the side of her ribcage. "Breathe. Slowly, before you pass out."

Tori's eyes shut. She swallows, nods, takes in a deep breath, and lets it out slowly through her teeth. Her heart is still racing - I can feel it drumming against my palm - but she's finally somewhere near normal. "Sorry," she says, eyes opening again. "I just, I'm so - this is so, so good, you're so good at this -"

I can't stifle the smug smile on my face. "Oh, you haven't seen anything yet." I kiss her lips again before disappearing down the length of her body again. She rests on one elbow in order to watch me, our eyes locked as I surf down the plane of her stomach and over her legs. Her trembling thighs part for me. I plant another kiss at the very edge of her panties and Tori's entire body erupts with shivers, goosebumps racing across her flesh at a fascinating speed. I study them in awe for a lot longer than a normal person would, only pulled back by Tori's moan.

Refocusing myself, I press my fingertips to the inside of Tori's knee and languidly drag them up toward her thigh. I can feel the heat radiating from her center already, can see the damp cloth of her panties. It's an exhilarating kind of feeling knowing she's in this state because of me. It makes my head spin and I can't hold back any longer, hooking my fingers into her panties and pulling them down the length of her legs. All of Tori's nerves are gone, replaced with desire, with need - I can hear it in her crashing breaths, her wanton moans.

I kiss her thigh, feeling the flesh shiver beneath my lips. My hand ghosts over her center, her straining hips struggling not to raise. She makes another sound, this one deeper and more animalistic than I've ever heard from her, and it shakes me to the core.

I don't wait. I don't ask her if she's ready, because she clearly is. She's more than ready. So I skim over the soft mound of her hair and press a finger against her clit. The stimulation alone is enough to make her almost cry out. I glance up at her, her head craned to the side, a knuckle pinched hard between her teeth.

"Don't hold back," I tell her, circling her clit slowly. She moans louder, releases her knuckle, and lets go.

It's beautiful, watching her come apart at my hands. This is real music, I think - the tune of her pleasure is better than any performance she's ever given. When I feel her begin to tense beneath me, her moans louder than ever, I abruptly stop. Tori whimpers - a sound that should be fucking illegal it's so hot - and looks down at me.

"Why -"

That's as far as she gets, because I'm slipping two fingers inside of her. I watch Tori's eyes first explode and then squeeze shut, hands fisting in the blankets.

"Oh my god -" She pants, and I don't waste any more time, knowing she's close to the edge as it is. I pump my fingers at a steady pace at first, in and out and occasionally curling them. My thumb keeps a constant pressure against her clit.

I feel the crescendo building, the climax of her song. Shifting my thumb out of the way, I bend over and flick my tongue against her - once, twice, and then she comes crashing down like cymbals slamming against each other. My name is lost in the waves of her climax, her constricting muscles and sweating skin. Her fingers weave through the back of my head and grip, pain that isn't at all unpleasant burning my skull. I don't stop then, though - I keep tasting her, licking her, sucking the nub of her clit until she comes a second time, this one more frantic than the first. I stop only when her shaking thighs drop in exhaustion against the mattress.

I sit up. I'm not nearly as breathless as her, but it does take me a minute to slow down my lungs. Tori takes twice as long, mouth open, eyes closed. When they do open, I'm laying at her side, drawing figure eights on her stomach.

"Wow," she manages.

I look to her dreamy expression and grin, chuckling. "You liked it?"

"Liked it?" Tori laughs. Though she's still shaking, she rolls toward me and kisses my cheek. "There are no words strong enough to describe how I felt about that."

I cock a studded brow at her. "How does not being a virgin feel?"

A smirk crawls over her lips. She rocks forward and kisses me. I'm certain she can taste herself on my mouth and I'm afraid that it might turn her off, but it only seems to spur her further. "Amazing," she whispers, eyelids heavy as we pull apart. It's my turn to feel breathless, the room whirling as she wraps an arm around my back and plucks the clasp of my bra.

Grinning wickedly, I chuck the bra over the side of the bed and, to my surprise, find Tori immediately latching onto a nipple. I give a surprised sound that beats off into a moan as her curious tongue tests the sensitivity of the hardening bud. Slowly, my mind detaches itself from my body, until I'm not thoughts - just sensations, just Tori's wandering hands as she follows the curves of my sides, the dip between my breasts. She pushes me onto my back and straddles me, holding her hair back with one hand as she kisses every inch of my chest and stomach. My ankles hook behind her back, heat scorching through my veins at every brush of her lips and fingers.

"For a newbie," I offer at some point, rather out of breath, "You're really fucking good at this."

Tori smiles against my bellybutton. "I'm a fast learner," she boasts. She pulls back and I hike my panties down to my knees, where she then takes control and drops them to the floor. We're both completely bare, now, washed in the dim light of my bedroom. We stare at each other and it's then I'm reminded that I put on music. The words float out in a soft, whispery tenor;

We're like noughts and crosses that  
Opposites always attract

We're the sun and the moon; an eclipse.

Tori is confident. She works slowly and carefully, always judging my reaction with her eyes, but she finds her way to my clit and masters it quickly. The slightest brush is enough to knock me clear off the edge, so she keeps the circles she makes drawn out. I moan her name, a weak sound that may have bothered me under different circumstances, but I'm so completely consumed with Tori, in Tori, that I only care about her and me and us and this.

When one finger slowly slips inside of me, I feel completed, pleasure ricocheting inside of me in hot bursts. Words crush out of me without thought behind them, no construct or forethought - more yes please god fuck Tori faster oh Tori Tori Tori - until it's just one long string of sound.

Experimentally, she dips her head down and runs her tongue across my clit just once, and that's all it takes.

White explodes behind my eyelids, banishing all coherency, all rationality. Her name leaves me once more, desperately loudly. I would have called it pathetic had it not been Tori.

But it's just right.

It takes me a while to come down. She's smiling at me when I do. My bedroom floods into focus a few moments later, a distant throb still present when I shift my legs even slightly.

"I was good?" She questions after a minute, a hint of doubt in her voice.

I give her the most incredulous look I can, given the circumstances. "Tori, Christ." I laugh, wringing my hands through my hair as I pull myself into a sitting position. "You were fucking incredible. And, lucky for us ..." I place two fingers against her knee and walk up the tan skin of her thigh. "We've got a whole night for smooth sailing."

"Just how many nautical puns are we going to use this evening?"

"As many as it takes to get me booty."

"Jade."

"Okay, okay." I grin, pushing forward to kiss her. She tastes like me, like us, and it makes my heart swell. "Full speed ahead."


	30. Chapter 30

**_|Tori|_ **

The first thing I see when I open my eyes is a skull. A tendril of fear snakes tightly around my throat and I almost scream until I'm bombarded with a thousand images all at once, most of them of flesh, of gasping lips and the sweet cave where Jade's collarbones meet, and her thighs, and her hands, and her tongue, and -

Oh.

I relax with a long breath swishing through my teeth. I'm in Jade's room. The skull is some Halloween decoration that of course Jade found to be appealing. I spent the night here. And last night, we did ... stuff.

Pressing a fist into one eye, I roll onto my back and peer over my shoulder. Jade is facing me, her face half in the pillow, lips slightly parted. Smiling, I take a few moments just to study her, to fully absorb everything about last night. Every moment of it was beautiful - she's beautiful. I saw all of her last night, the secret parts that I've never seen on anyone else. It was private and close and I never understood the definition of intimacy until she showed it to me. My heart starts to stutter just thinking about it, giving excited little pats against my ribs. Grinning, I slowly pull back the blanket and come to a stand. Picking up my clothes from yesterday off the floor, I make my way to Jade's bathroom. After doing my business and washing my hands, I slip my long legs back into my underwear and clasp my bra behind my back. The blouse is soon to follow, but I don't bother buttoning it.

It feels weird - no, not weird, just new, and surprisingly pleasant, to experience a 'morning after'. There's still a private kind of air to the whole moment, like outside these bedroom walls, nothing else exists. Everything and everyone has had to pause so Jade and I could have a few moments of peace, of just us - no parents or Beck or future or anything. It's different from before, when I felt her not just on the outside of me but in my chest, too, thrumming along with the pace of my heartbeat, but now she's everywhere. She's been inside of me - which sounds almost pornographic, but I don't mean it like that. We connected. We're linked on a different, deeper level now.

As I shimmy into my pants, I try not to think about the fact that Jade has been on this level with someone else already. It's different for me because I'm - was a virgin. She's already experienced this with someone else. It almost makes me feel jealous knowing that Beck got to have Jade when she was raw and fresh and new. Not that it really changes our experience at all, because it was still the first time with just us, but I think I would have liked to see an inexperienced Jade try to learn the ropes. Smirking at my reflection and running my fingers through my hair, I remind myself that it was just as nice have her be the leader.

I pat my pockets for my phone but they're empty. I step back into Jade's bedroom, the girl now lying flat on her stomach with her face pressed deep into her pillow, breathing still shallow with sleep. I scan the dresser tops and the shelves for my phone only to remember that I had left it in my purse upstairs. Tip-toeing across the carpet, I make my way gingerly up the stairs to the basement door before slipping through it. The house on the other side is quiet and I figure it must be vacant. A passing clock tells me it's nearly ten in the morning - my mom will have surely called by now. I slide my bare feet across the floor on my way to my purse, still dangling from the hook beside the front door, and dig into it until I find my phone. Sure enough, I have a missing call from my mother and two texts, one from Cat and one from Andre. Bending over the glowing screen of my phone, I spin on my heel and start to make my way back to the basement. Today is Sunday. It's mine and Jade's reserved date day, and all I want to do is curl up in bed with her, maybe watch a few of those gory movies she likes so much, and talk, and eat ice cream, and do a little more sailing if you know what I mean -

"You."

A jolt akin to watts of electricity rattles my bones. My phone slips from my fingers and cracks against the floor, landing screen down. Clutching the front of my still unbuttoned shirt, I whirl on my heel, heart crashing on cymbals in my ears. The sudden adrenaline makes Jade's mother look brighter in the entryway to the living room, as if eerie fluorescent liquid is in her veins instead of blood. She's already dressed for the day: black, sleek slacks, similar to mine in design, actually, and a turquoise blouse that clasps tightly at her throat. I wonder, absently, if it hurts for her to swallow. Her hair is gathered onto one shoulder, not quite as dark as Jade's but much curlier. She's actually quite pretty in a fierce, dragon-esque kind of way. If she didn't look so royally ticked off, I probably would have said she was beautiful - but, as it is, her eyebrows are sharp arrows over her nose and her lips are pressed in a stern, unfriendly line.

A mix of 'uh' and 'oh' and 'er' comes out of my throat, somehow. Twisting my torso away from her, I scramble with the buttons of my shirt. I would think, out of decency for my own privacy, she would wait until I was finished, but Jade's mom - Jasmine, I remind myself, though it's hard to picture her as a person with a name - starts to circle me. She's wearing heavy boots that thunk against the wooden floor of the hallway in a predatory manner, and I feel my throat tighten under her scrutinizing stare. By some miracle, I've managed to button the bottom half of my shirt, but I don't have time to finish the rest because Jasmine is standing in front of me, hands behind her back. She's far too close for comfort, so I slide a foot backward to try and put some distance between us.

"Tori, right?" Jasmine's smile is misleading, but I'm too terrified to do anything but nod. She mimics the gesture, eyes briefly flicking over my shirt, which is pinched closed by one of my hands. I squeeze my fingers with discomfort under her gaze which draws her attention back to my face. "Did you have a sleepover?"

"I -" I don't know what to tell her. I look over her shoulder, toward Jade's basement door. It's slightly open, but a flight of stairs still separates us. I want Jade here. I'm fiercely under the impression that being alone with Jasmine is just as terrifying as being locked in a cage with a hungry lion. "I, uhm. Yes. I spent the night." Curling a lock of mussed hair behind my ear with my free hand, I divert my eyes to the floor. "I'm, I'm sorry, I probably should have asked -"

"Oh, no." Jasmine's hands raise in a surrender-like position before she folds them tightly over her chest. "It's not like she does anything I tell her to do, anyway."

I offer a weak, scared smile. Not knowing what else to say, I fall uncomfortably silent. I'm afraid to bend over and pick up my phone, so instead I focus my eyes on it, becoming aware of my teeth chewing the inside of my cheek only when it starts to really hurt. "We missed you last night," I blurt, tonguing the sore spot on my cheek before continuing. "We waited, but you, uh, never showed."

"Had places to be, people to talk to. So," All false cheerfulness is gone from her tone. "You're her girlfriend."

Chest swelling with a breath, I pluck up the courage to meet Jasmine's eyes. "Yes," I say firmly, nodding as well.

Jasmine's emerald eyes narrow. "You do realize that this is a horrendous mistake on both of your parts. You go to Hollywood Arts, right? A prestigious performing arts school for the most talented children all hoping to one day be -" her lips flex into a hard smile, hands gathering in front of her so her fingers can splay out, mimicking an explosion of some sort. "Stars," she finishes, the smile disappearing. "That's correct?"

Swallowing, I give a short nod. "Yes. Well, I mean, that isn't all I want out of life. I want to be, you know, just happy."

"Just happy," Jasmine repeats. "Has she ever told you about when she was little?"

The sudden shift in conversation catches me off guard. I also can't help but notice that she never calls Jade by her name, though I decide that commenting on it would only make things more tense. "Uhm, no, not really," I reply uneasily. Jade had told me isolated incidents a few times, but usually she avoided everything pre-Hollywood Arts as much as she could. "Why?"

The woman's lips twitch into that unsettling smile again. "From the time she could talk, she could sing. After that came dancing, and later still, acting. By the time she was five, she had more talent in her pinky finger than most children have in their own body." Jasmine's face hardens. "The only thing she has ever wanted was to be famous. To be in movies, to sing and dance on stage, to be known. She has slaved for years to get where she is now, well on her way to becoming the next big star, and you have the audacity to walk into her life and destroy everything she has ever worked for?"

Her tone has shifted so quickly I feel like I might have whiplash. She charges forward, forcing me backward, a hand reaching blindly behind me until I find the hallway wall. My throat closes, not that I would be able to say much anyway, because Jasmine is quick to resume.

"Being just happy might be good enough for you, but it's not what she wants. It's not what she deserves. She deserves fame and recognition and to be a star. Do you not agree?"

I can't do anything. I can't speak or move, so I just gape at her, eyes burning with the tell-tale sign of tears on their way.

"Of course you do," she snaps. "You want her to reach the top. You want her to succeed. But she can't do that with you in the picture. Understand?"

My mouth opens and closes but I still can't wire my brain back to my mouth. Part of me - all of me knows that she's right. I'm making Jade's chances of being successful that much harder. She could lose everything she's ever wanted out of life just for me.

Am I worth that? Am I that valuable?

A sinking in my chest answers my own question.

No, I think, blinking once and feeling a hot tear burn its way down my cheek. I'm not worth that.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Jasmine and I turn at the same time. Jade is standing in front of her open basement door - clothed, thank god, though I can tell she just grabbed whatever she could find in order to make it upstairs faster. Her baggy black t-shirt is hanging off one shoulder and her matching pants are twisted at the hip. Her hair is tangled from sleep, dark make-up blurred around her eyes, and I would have told her she's beautiful had we been alone, even though she looks even more angry than Jasmine.

Speaking of, she immediately backs off, hands closing behind her back again. Jade darts her eyes toward me, head tilting backward in a silent order to 'come here', and I have no objection. I would have run to her had the distance been longer. By the time she has an arm around me, I'm trembling so badly it's as if an earthquake set off within my bones. I cling to Jade, keeping my eyes on the floor.

"We were just talking," Jasmine says, voice controlled, almost pleasant. Jade's arm tightens around my waist.

"Didn't look like talking," she says through her clenched jaws. "Where were you last night?"

I look up then. Jasmine's face is struggling between anger and blankness. "Your father's."

I feel moreso than see the shock run through Jade. Her body gives a tiny jump beside mine.

"What?" She says, voice breathless and disbelieving.

Jasmine's shoulders straighten. "This situation is drastic. It calls for drastic measures." Jasmine steps into the living room, disappearing from our view, but Jade is quick to release me in order to follow her. I remain standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall with my eyes closed, trying to stay calm.

"You went to Dad because you think me having a girlfriend is drastic?"

"He was always better at talking sense into you."

"I'm not the one not making sense! You're being irrational! For fuck's sake, Mom!"

There's silence for a few moments, and I can just imagine them staring each other down with those icy stares they have, cold and unforgiving. Then, "Wait." It's Jade's voice, sounding uneasy. "You didn't come home all night. Did you - oh my fucking god, Mom."

Jasmine snorts. "What does it matter to you who I sleep with?"

Something shatters. The sound is so loud and piercing I jump again, spinning around the living room entryway. Jade is standing in the midst of a broken lamp, the black shards of glass littered about her feet in one wide circle. Jasmine doesn't look phased. Jade is breathing heavily, face contorted in anger.

"So it's perfectly normal for you to fuck your ex-husband but I can't be in a relationship with my girlfriend? A healthy, normal relationship, for once in my fucking life? Seriously, no, enlighten me, Mother, on what the hell is wrong with you, so I can begin to understand where the fuck your logic comes from."

A muscle flickers in Jasmine's jaw. Silence elapses between them with just the sound of Jade's frantic breathing and my own beating heart. Finally, Jade's mother relaxes, the lines in her forehead smoothing out. "Your father will be here soon to talk to you. If, after that, you're still not willing to cooperate, then you're on your own."

Jade's body tenses again. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what you think it means." A grin, so terribly wrong on her face that I can't describe it as anything but evil, curls across her lips. "I won't pay for your next semester at Hollywood Arts. I'll take away the car. You'll be lucky to still be living here at all."

I watch Jade's face collapse, her lower jaw stuttering with the effort to think of something to snap back at her. I'm crying freely now, watching but unable to say anything to protect Jade, to fight back. All I can do is stand there, useless, helpless, watching Jade's entire life fall apart just because of me.

"Have you ever loved me, Mom?"

The question shocks Jasmine and I both. I almost cross the room then and take her in my arms because seeing Jade so broken hurts me worse than anything else. Her green eyes flick dangerously toward her mother, who has gathered herself for the most part, though her eyes are down.

"I'm doing this because I do."

Jade's face tightens again. "That is the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. She's my girlfriend!" Jade thrusts a finger toward me. "I care about her. She cares about me. She makes me happy, Mom. For once, I'm actually happy. And you want to take that away from me?"

"You'll thank me," Jasmine starts, but Jade cuts her off by grabbing the end table, the one I assume the now shattered lamp had been resting on, and flips it. It clatters noisily to the floor.

"No!" Jade roars. "Fuck you!" She turns and walks - right over the glass, ignoring whatever pain it may cause, and takes me by the elbow once she's close enough. I follow close behind her, leaving my phone on the floor as we trudge down into the basement. She lets go at the foot of them, where I slowly sit, pulling my knees to my chest. Jade buzzes around her room, ripping open drawers, pulling a duffle bag seemingly from nowhere. I don't realize what she's doing until she starts stuffing clothes into it.

"Jade?"

"What?" Jade is quick to snap, eyes avoiding me as she continues to shove pairs of pants into her bag.

"What are you doing?"

"Packing. I can't stay here anymore."

I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but my voice comes out shaky anyway. "Where are you going?"

Jade hesitates. She looks at me, arms full of clothes, expression confused. "To your place."

My lip trembles, chest giving a great heave as I hold back a sob. "Jade, I - what if, what if your mom's right? What if this -" I spread my hands, "- is all wrong?"

The clothes in her arms sink to the floor in a heap. She stares at me, somewhere between anger and disbelief, before silently crossing the room and dipping to one knee. She gathers my face in both of her hands. This close, I can see the clumps left behind by her mascara and the flecks of brown in her irises, the little things that make her so beautiful to me.

"Tori, don't even start," she says, voice firm and demanding. "Don't even start with that shit, okay?"

"Your mom said all you've ever wanted was to be big in Hollywood." I touch Jade's cheek with longing fingers. "What if I take that away from you?"

Jade shakes her head and presses her forehead to mine. Her eyes squeeze shut. "I don't want it at all if I can't have you too."

"You're throwing everything away! For me, Jade!"

"You're taking the same risk!" She pulls back far enough to meet my eyes, hands still tight on my head. "We're both jeopardizing our careers. So what? So fucking what, Tori?"

"Because I'll be okay if I never become famous. It isn't what I've always wanted. But it's your whole life. Your whole life, Jade. I can't, I can't be the reason you lose everything."

Jade backs away - I figure not to hurt me, since her hands have balled into fists. "Don't you get it, Tori?" She looks about to break, to shatter just like the lamp upstairs, and I half expect to see little pieces of her bursting across the floor. "You are my everything!"

I stare at her, tears trailing down my cheeks to leap from my jaw. After a few moments, I push myself to my trembling knees, but I still only stare at her.

I try to picture my life without her in it, and the pain that wedges itself into my sternum hurts worse than any blade ever could.

I don't know who initiates the kiss. Somehow, we collide into each other, Jade's fingers snaking painfully into my hair but I couldn't give a damn, kissing her back with as much passion as I can muster, still choking back my sobs. Jade kisses them away. It takes us a few minutes to calm down and even longer to separate, but eventually we're both sitting at the edge of her bed, hands still clinging desperately to the other's in our laps.

"I'm going to go home," I tell her, watching her throat tense at the words. "I'm only making things worse by being here right now. I want you to talk to your dad and your mom as rationally as you can, okay?" I wait for her to nod. "And if things still aren't working out, then I'll talk to my parents." I squeeze her hand. "Let's deal with that first."

Jade frees one hand and wipes at her eyes. "Okay," she whispers.

There isn't much for me to gather. All too soon I'm going upstairs again, this time with my shirt buttoned, scooping my phone from the floor and making my way to the front door with Jade at my heels. She kisses me in the doorway and I make her promise to call as soon as possible. We linger there for a time, my head against her shoulder, her cool hand pressed against my back.

And then I leave, her house disappearing in my rear view mirror.

I hit every red light on the way home.


	31. Chapter 31

**_|Jade|_ **

My phone goes off while I'm in the shower, but I'm too busy sitting at the bottom of the tub with my head between my knees to pay it much attention. It's probably Tori, and it's not like I don't want to talk to her (I always want to talk to her), but I can't even find the energy to get up and turn the water off, let alone get out and pick up my phone.

A great roar beneath my wet hands announces the hunger of my stomach. Rubbing it slightly, as if trying to calm it, I tilt my head up directly into the spray of the showerhead and let it beat against my face. The sound drums loud in my ears as I open my mouth. It fills with water. I spit it out and do it again and again for no real reason at all, and then I accidentally swallow some of it, making my throat seize as it begins to trickle into my lungs. I cough loudly, hunched over my knees, hacking like there's something trying to crawl out of me, and somehow the coughing turns into crying and before I know it the hot currents on my face aren't just shower water.

I close my eyes and think of last night, of Tori's tan flesh running beneath my fingers like dark rivers, the way she kissed me hard enough to keep me captured but soft enough to let me go, how she knotted her fingers into my hair and how her moans sounded like singing. Warmth blossoms between my legs just thinking about it. My eyelashes drip with water when I open them again, staring blankly at the fake blood spatter on my shower curtain. Mom had turned up her nose at it when she saw it in the package even though I was clearly excited about buying it.

I clench my fingernails into my kneecaps. Mom. She's not worthy of a status like that. Hell, she's not worthy of being a human.

A part of me understands, though, which pisses me off even more. She knows the business. She's responsible for quite a few success stories because she knows the ins and outs of Being Famous. When she says I'm throwing away my future career, she's not saying it with no evidence to prove her point. I mean, that doesn't justify her being a bitch at all, but at least she's coming from somewhere partially sane.

I think of Tori - beautiful, sing-song little Tori with her too big heart and her great smile and her eyes when she looks at me and I need her. I need her right now - and maybe I won't marry her or be with her forever but that doesn't change the fact that I want her now, at this moment, and she's more important than any career.

I wonder when my mom fell out of love with my dad, or if it was the other way around, or if they both just woke up one day and hated each other. My throat constricts with fear. What if it's inevitable? What if I wake up and don't feel the same way about Tori, just like Beck did with me? Pressing my heels into my eyes, I shake my head and try to breathe and remind myself that Tori's parents are still together and they're happy and they have a life and if they can do it, then it's not impossible. I'm not Beck and Tori isn't like anyone else on the planet and that means that we have a shot at forever.

Right?

Hauling myself reluctantly to my feet, I yank the water off and climb out of the shower. As I pat my hair dry with a towel, I try to imagine not stepping foot in this bathroom anymore. I try to see myself getting ready for school - and maybe not even the same school - at Tori's. I hang my head over the sink and rub my face with one hand before slicking my fingers through my tangled mess of hair. Even thinking about asking Tori's parents for that kind of support, putting all that pressure on them, depending on them for at least the remainder of the school year makes me want to crawl into a hole and never come out. It seemed like a good idea when Tori was here, but what if moving in with her ruins everything? We've only been together for a little over a month, after all - too much time together too quickly could turn us into what Beck and I were.

I press my fingers into my eyes and try not to sink to my knees. Breathing doesn't come easy. I can't move in with Tori, I tell myself. I can't do that to her parents and I definitely can't do that to her. It would be asking too much and it makes my stomach coil.

After I've caught my breath, I find my brush and tear it through my hair until the rats are gone, using my acting talents well by keeping my face as controlled and passive as possible. It's not until I'm dressed in loose jeans and a t-shirt that I remember my phone went off and, scooping it from the sink, I check the message.

As I suspected, it's from Tori:

Last night was the most special night of my life. This morning didn't ruin it at all.

"Shit," I hush under my breath, pressing my towel to my stinging eyes again. I text back:

You have made me more emotional than I ever thought possible.

She's quick to reply with:

You're welcome (: Be brave today. Call me when it's all over.

I reply with the affirmative before sliding my phone into my pack pocket and moving back into my bedroom. Dumping my wet towel into the hamper, I start to scan my eyes over the shelves lining my room, the posters and pictures and skeletons and weird little knick-knacks I've picked up over the years, the broken bottles I've taken from empty roads at night and a bunch of syringes I jacked from the hospital when Tori was giving Robbie blood transfusions - all this stuff that I've always found fascinating even though I couldn't explain it to anyone else. Beck would sometimes question me about it, but he didn't really understand. That's what I like so much about Tori. She doesn't try to get it. Her and I aren't the same person and that's okay. She lets me be me without feeling like she has to know every little thing. It's okay for me to have secrets I can't explain. She doesn't care.

If my mom kicks me out, she'll have all of this thrown away in ten minutes. She sees it as junk. Everything I've ever held value to would be at the dump tomorrow.

I'm sliding my fingers along the ridges of a black feather when I hear the door open upstairs. Freezing, I strain my ears to listen - distant footsteps, the indistinct rumbling of voices. I haven't seen my dad since the semester started when he met me at the school to pay for my tuition. Like my mom, there's a lot of distance between us, having absolutely nothing in common and even less to talk about, but, unlike my mom, he's made the tiniest effort to make it to some of my performances. I mean, I'm convinced he hates me just by virtue of me being me (and being the spawn of his ex-wife), but at least he's aware of my work.

Before the divorce, my parents and I were pretty close. We did stuff together. We hung out. I even faintly recall my dad carrying me to bed sometimes and my mom tucking me in. It's been over ten years since any of that and I'm long past feeling like shit about it since I really don't know why it happened in the first place. It just did, and I got over it, and dealt with it in my own way, and I've been fine. Living independently of my parents has never bothered me and our lines didn't cross until I started hanging out with Tori.

I know she blames herself. She thinks she's made a bad situation worse when, in reality, it's been heading in this direction for years. My family is dysfunctional and destructive. Something would have made my mother snap eventually, so all of this was inevitable. It's not Tori's fault. I'd go through this a hundred times over if I had to, if it meant I'd still get to kiss her goodnight.

I give myself just a moment to mentally eye-roll. I'm becoming such a sap.

Running my hand through my still damp hair, I climb the stairs. I pause at the door, pressing my ear to it, but I still can't make any sense of their mumbling. Deciding I'd rather go into this firmly then already feeling like a loser, I shove open the door and stomp my way down the hallway, more than announcing my arrival. The voices stop. I find them in the living room standing stiffly in front of the TV, facing me. I take a moment to stare at my dad - I was fortunate enough not to gain much in the way of genes from him. His hair is a light shade of brown and cropped short, his eyes small and dark, chin a great square block. I remember when I was little he told me he wanted to be a famous wrestler someday, and even now I can see why. He's a muscly guy, looking very restrained in his polished black suit. He works at the corporate level, which explains the strict dress code, and he's probably heading straight to work after he's done dealing with my mother and I. My dad has a schedule and likes to keep to it and I can tell already that he doesn't want to be here by the quick glance he gives to his Rolex.

"Hi," I chirp from the entryway, taking one step into the living room. I avoid my mother's eyes even though I can feel them burning through my flesh. "I'm sure it's awfully inconvenient for you to be here, Father, so let's make this quick, shall we?"

He looks to Mom, who is squeezing her hands in front of her chest. Wordlessly, I plop in the center of the couch, arms locking tightly over my stomach and one leg swinging over the other, free heel bouncing. My dad sits on the edge of an armchair beside me, though my mom remains standing, shifting her heated gaze to Dad, waiting for him to make the first move. I give him an expectant look as well. They initiated this, so they might as well get it started.

Finally, Dad coughs into his fist, straightens his back, and meets my eyes. "Your mother tells me you're making poor decisions."

"She would know, since we talk oh so often," I begin. "Not that she's exactly one to talk, considering she went to your place last night with the intention of working out a plan with you to get me in line, but ended up sleeping over, as it were." I smile at my mom, who tightens her jaw visibly.

Dad doesn't even flinch. Sitting back, he sighs, thick fingers folding in his lap. "I know your mother and I are very distant from you -"

"Distant?" I snort, shaking my head. "I live in the same fucking house as her and I see her face maybe a handful of times a month. I told her about the break-up the day after it happened and she forgot about it a few weeks later, asking me where Beck was." Mom ducks her head in my peripherals, but I'm focused on my dad. "And don't get me started on you. When was the last time we spoke? September?"

This time, something crosses his face, but he's so hard to read and I have no practice deciphering him, I don't know what it means. Coughing again, he says, "We want you to be independent and make smart choices."

"I'm sure you do." Twisting my neck to face my mother, I raise my eyebrows. "Because little miss I-never-made-it-on-the-big-screen wants to live through me, somehow, but she obviously can't do that if I don't follow in her footsteps. You know, the ones that lead me to marrying someone I hate, having a kid I don't know shit about, and then threatening to throw them out when they do something I don't approve of." I cock my studded brow. "That sound about right, Mother?"

"Throw her out?" My dad sounds surprised. He turns toward my mom. "Jasmine, that isn't what we talked about."

Mom is pinching the bridge of her nose. "We didn't do much talking if you don't recall."

I make a disgusted sound and shake my head again. There's silence for a time, the refrigerator humming from the kitchen, and finally I say, "You don't even know her." I look to my dad, who is studying his clasped hands. "She's nice and funny and has a good head on her shoulders. I'm not with her to piss you guys off or be rebellious or any of the other shit I've done to try and get your attention." When Dad looks up, I gesture to my face. "The piercing? The tattoos? The dyed hair?" I look to my mom, her eyes trained on me. "That was supposed to rile you up. I mean, it was a couple of years ago and since it didn't work I've stopped trying, but you guys missed the rebellion stage. Neither of you cared enough to talk to me." I spread my hands. "But this, this girl who I care about very much, this is what brings our family together? I'm finally happy without a relationship with either of you and you want to take that away from me?"

They both look uncomfortable. Dad is swallowing and looking again at his watch and Mom is staring out a window. The silence is heavy and thick and I feel like I'm trying to breathe in molasses and I want to punch both of them in the throat until they understand how fucking stupid they're both being.

"Your mother is not going to throw you out," my dad says eventually. When Mom turns on him, he raises a hand. "Because that is blowing this whole thing completely out of proportion. You may not approve, Jasmine, and I might not either, but we've been absent too long in her life to try and control it now." He looks to me. "You understand the possible consequences of this?"

"Yes," I say with a nod.

He holds my eyes, purses his lips, and nods as well. Standing, he straightens the jacket of his suit. "That covers it, then."

"Daryl -" My mom all but jumps across the living room and grabs my father's arm. He turns away from her and heads toward the door. "Daryl, this is not what we discussed -"

"I thought we didn't do much talking?"

"Daryl -!"

"That's enough, Jasmine!"

These are the parents I remember. I stand, trying not to shake as I turn toward the two of them. My mother's back is to me but Dad is much taller than her and I can see the pained lines of his face contorting, which is the most emotion I've seen from him since before the divorce. I start to walk back toward my bedroom, assured that my mother, despite no longer being married to him, will not throw me out because of what he said. I jerk to a halt, however, as my father goes on -

"I know you want her to succeed since she's the only child you're ever going to have -"

What? I turn, staring down the hallway at my mom, sinking against the hallway wall, and my father, scooping up his suitcase from the floor.

" - but it's long past that, now. She's an adult, Jasmine. Let her have her own life." His eyes shift over Mom's shoulder to meet mine, his lips pressing in a flat line. And then he's gone, the door shutting softly, but there seems to be some kind of boom. I can feel it in my bones.

"What did he mean?" I uncross my arms and let them swing emptily to my side. " 'The only child you're going to have'? Mom?"

She's wiping at her eyes. My mom is crying. My legs lock together, jaw falling open as she turns around and actually sniffles. She seems to be debating something, eyes far away and somewhere else and it's the first time I've ever seen her not like some kind of Ice Queen.

"I didn't marry someone I hated," she says, voice so soft I can barely hear her. "I loved your father. But after I lost the baby -"

A loud sound that I don't register until a few moments later as a gasp makes my chest tighten. She looks up. Our eyes meet.

"Jesus Christ," I breathe. "Can this family get any more fucked up?"


	32. Chapter 32

**_|Tori|_ **

"Throw her out?" My mom's hand flattens over her heart. "How could a mother ever do that?"

I shrug, taking another bite of banana and chewing it thoughtfully. "She's kind of tough. Scared the complete jeebies out of me this morning. I was actually wondering, though, if it came to that ..." I look at my mom across the kitchen island, my expression hopeful. "She could stay here?" When she falters, I add, "You did say she has a home here, Mom."

"I know," she says, sighing, elbows braced on the countertop. "I mean, if it comes to her being homeless or staying here, of course she can stay here. On the couch," she adds seriously, eyes narrowing. "Your father would probably have a hernia if I let her stay in your room, not to mention Trina would insist on letting a boy stay here. Which, you know, I'm very happy to see you guys have active dating lives, but I don't want to hear it."

"Mom!"

"I'm just saying!"

Laughing, I finish off my banana and toss the peel into the trash. I sigh and lean against the counter again, almost feeling guilty for being able to enjoy my mother's presence, when Jade is probably in the midst of a huge fight with hers. I rub at my forehead with my eyes closed until I feel my mother's arms wrapping tightly around my shoulders, giving me a slight squeeze.

"It'll be okay," she assures me, rubbing my back. She pulls back and the same brown eyes I have look down at me with warmth. "True love always wins, right?"

The word catches me by surprise, but Mom is already patting my shoulder and moving away from me. Hovering still in the kitchen, I take a deep breath and let those words soak into my bones.

True love.

My heart patters.

Wiggling my arms and legs for, well, for reasons, I leave the kitchen and climb the stairs to my room. After a quick shower, I try to read for English, but it's a love story and every sentence makes me think of Jade, and soon I'm just staring blankly at the page and spacing out on fantasies of Jade and it's getting too warm for my pants and I consider taking them off but ew, no, what am I, some kind of hormonal animal now? Is this what being a non-virgin feels like? But I can't get her out of my head, her fields of white skin and those talented lips and her hands, my goodness, those hands, and -

My Pearphone erupts on the side of my desk. I scoop it up, answering the call without looking at the ID. "Jade?"

"Huh? Did I dial the wrong number?"

"Cat?" I'm surprised to hear her voice, which really shouldn't be all that alarming, considering Cat calls me all the time. It's almost as if, what with all this Jasmine stuff going down, I forgot about everything else. Andre and Robbie and Beck - I still don't know where I stand with him - and homework and plays and the talent show next month and about a hundred other things are all still going on around me. Life slowed down for a night, but it's quick to catch up.

"So this is Tori, right?"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm expecting a call from Jade."

"I'll be fast!" Cat's voice squeaks through the receiver at such a high pitch, the phone sings with it. "I was just wondering if we could hang out today."

"I've kind of neglected my homework all weekend, and Jade - things aren't so great right now at her house, so she might need to come here for the night. But if all that smooths over, yeah, I'd love to hang out." I let out a long breath. "I definitely have stuff to tell you."

"Juicy!" Cat exclaims, though I'm not sure if she's talking about something she's eating or my promise of gossip. "I'll see if Andre wants to hang in the meantime. Let me know ASPCA!"

"I think you mean ASAP."

"Kay kay!"

She hangs up. Shaking my head and smiling, I set the phone down again and force myself to focus on the stupid book, dragging myself through twenty pages before I go on to the horrendous Pre-Calc problems that I have inconveniently forgotten how to complete. I've chewed the end of my pencil to almost nothing by the time my phone goes off again. This time, I check, and Jade's name bounces beneath a very rare smiling picture of her.

"Hey," I answer, dropping my pencil into the crease of my math book before turning away from it. "Are you okay? Is everything all right?"

"If you're wondering if my mother has me sitting on the curb with a single suitcase, I promise you that's false."

"She's not kicking you out, then?" I sigh with relief, moving to sit on the edge of my bed. "What happened?"

"She wanted to kick me out, but my dad wouldn't let her." Jade says, her voice muffled and distorted.

"Are you eating?"

"Yeah. I ordered some Chinese. I'm starving."

"You sound okay," I say, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it beneath my arm so I can lean on it.

"I'm fine." The sucking of a straw floats through the receiver. "The show down wasn't that dramatic. No punches. Mom cried, though."

"Cried?"

Jade huffs. "Yeah. Like a real human being. Things are a lot more fucked up than I realized."

My brow crumples. "How so?"

"Before the divorce ..." Jade drifts for a few moments, the silence pricking at my ears, and I wonder if this is one of those things she wouldn't have told Beck right away. She's told me a couple different times that there were just certain things she didn't want him to know - at least, not right away - and that she liked being private. It's not like I'd beg her to spill something she wasn't comfortable sharing, but being this deep into the situation, there's no way to keep me in the dark for very long. Just as the silence is stretching for so long I'm afraid she's going to refuse to tell me or that the line has somehow been cut, she says,"She was pregnant, but she lost the baby. It had to have been pretty early on because I was never told about it, but yeah. I guess that kind of fucked her up. And then shit just went downhill with my dad and then they split and I guess my mom always wanted a bunch of kids but now she can't have any anymore."

"Oh my god." I try to picture Jasmine - made of stone, from what I've seen - actually experiencing something like grief. Like, being a normal person with feelings. "That's horrible, Jade. I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"Well, you know. You could have had a little brother or sister. I mean, Trina isn't exactly a prime example of a perfect sibling, but I still love her and I'm glad she's here. Most days. I'm just sorry you didn't get to experience that. And your poor mom."

I imagine Jade's shrugging at the moment, since she doesn't immediately reply.

"Lots of people have miscarriages. It doesn't mean they abandon their other kids."

"You're awful at empathy, Jade."

"I mean it." Jade's mouth sounds full of food again, but it clears up a moment later. "We talked for a little bit after my dad left and I made sure she knew that just because she lost the baby didn't mean I was going to automatically forgive her. Like, yeah, shit's tough, but I was still alive and she didn't give a damn." She pauses, and her voice is quieter when she continues. "She apologized, though. That was ... weird."

"For what, exactly?"

"For being a bitch. Those were her exact words. 'I'm sorry for being a bitch to you.' But I'll believe that when I see it." She huffs again. "Still. Baby steps, I guess."

"Are you okay?"

"I told you I'm fine."

"No, like, are you really okay?"

"Yes, Tori. I was a little scared there for a minute that I'd be kicked out, but yeah, I'm totally fine. My dad even said I was an adult and should have my own life. Cool, right?"

I smile weakly and can't help but think of my own dad. Strong, resilient, risking his life as a cop on a daily basis. When I started dating late in middle school and early on during high school, he was a little overbearing, but I think that had a lot to do with the risk of getting pregnant. I figure the main reason he hasn't been attacking Jade at every corner is because she lacks the equipment to do so.

Not that she still won't try, I think with a sudden blossoming blush on my face.

Shaking my head, I firmly remind myself that now is definitely not the time for thoughts like that.

"Anyway," I gush, striking the end of my pencil against my open math book with rapid flicks. "What are your plans for the rest of the day?"

"Homework, unfortunately. I'd say fuck it and hang out with you since Sunday is our day, you know, but -"

"Don't worry about it. I'm pretty loaded today, too. Cat wants to hang out if I finish, did you want me to call?"

"Will you be mad if I say no?"

I stop, eyebrows breaking over my nose. "No? Why?"

There's a long pause. I can hear Jade's jaw chewing through the receiver. "Beck'd be upset if I didn't have a 'good reason', whatever that means. That makes him sound like an ass, he just, I dunno, didn't understand 'personal days', I guess."

"You've been through a lot today. Don't worry about it. I'll see you bright and early Monday morning."

"Okay. I -" She shuts her mouth so hard I can hear the teeth click. Something comes and passes before I can detect what it is, exactly, like she's not sure if she should say something, and then she rushes with a "I'll see you then," and hangs up.

I stare at my phone for a few moments before ultimately deciding I don't want to look too deeply into something like that, lest I draw myself into a panic attack. Setting my phone aside, I force myself through the rest of my Pre-Calc before moving on to some history homework I've been neglecting for weeks. I don't finish my homework until well after three, but there's still plenty of time to hang out with Cat and Andre. I call them and decide to meet up at the Groovy Smoothie, which just opened up a few days ago.

I text Jade just to make sure she doesn't want to hang out, but she replies pretty swiftly that she wants some down time. It doesn't bother me, necessarily - I know what it's like to be overwhelmed and just want a day to oneself - but I hope she doesn't think I'm too overbearing. The last thing I want her to think is that I'm anything like Beck was.

The Groovy Smoothie is a small but brightly colored little place, highlighted in bright pinks and oranges. I feel like Cat probably feels at home here, what with the kaleidoscope of colors and the almost nauseating smell of fruit. The blaring sound of a jukebox off in a corner assaults my ears as I walk in, as well as a high pitched giggle that can only belong to a certain redhead I know. The two are seated at a round table near the counter - Cat sucking on the straw of her smoothie with fierce intensity and Andre telling a story with quick, animated hands.

"Hey!" I wave to get their attention. They both burst grins at me as a I sit down, dropping my purse on the table.

"Tori told me she has stuff to tell us!" Cat looks about ready to pop in excitement, slamming an open palm on Andre's shoulder. While he rubs it with a wounded expression, Cat gives him little time to interject. "Go on, Tori!" Her eyes are wide and glittering like they're made of jewels.

"Juicy gossip?" Andre's dark eyebrows dance.

I smile at them, feeling myself relax for the first time since this morning. It's so weird to think that just a few hours ago I was standing in front of Jade's mother, scared out of my mind, even contemplating that I should leave Jade for the sake of her future. The whole thing seems absurdly unreal and far away.

"You guys are my best friends," I begin, leveling a finger at the two of them. "So basic best friends rules apply here."

"Not a word to anyone else," Andre says, lifting his smoothie from the table and tipping his straw toward me. "Duh."

"Duh!" Cat repeats, bouncing off her seat. "Come on!"

Laughing, I take a deep breath and start with Saturday evening, when I arrived at Jade's house. I decide to skip the part about the sleepover - for now, at least. The whole situation is still very new to me, so I'm not going to tell them about it this soon. I end with what Jade told me on the phone just a few hours ago. By now, Cat's expression has dimmed significantly and Andre is staring worriedly into his smoothie.

"That's messed up," he finally offers, frown deepening. "Her mom sounds like a psycho."

"She's definitely got issues," I say with a nod. "But I guess it's not entirely her fault. Something like that can really mess with you."

"Poor Jade," Cat whines. "I just want to make her a cake or something. Hug her. Buy her a kitten."

Panic seizes my throat. "Oh, crap," I breathe, looking between Cat and Andre with wide, frightened eyes. "No, no, you can't tell her I told you any of this. I don't - shoot!" I slide my fingers into my hair. How could it have not occurred to me until now that Jade probably didn't want something like this spreading around? This was supposed to be private! I just learned about it, and what did she say about telling Beck things and opening up and oh my God what if I just ruined everything and -

"We're not going to say anything," Andre assures me, a hand resting on my arm. "We're your friends. It's okay to tell us."

"But she's my girlfriend," I moan, my forehead falling to the table. "I shouldn't have said anything. I should have kept it to myself. She trusts me and I just totally violated it!"

"Tori," Cat chirps, sliding to my side of the table and wrapping a tender arm around me. "We won't say anything, but maybe you could just tell her now and say you're sorry. Maybe she won't be mad at all."

My eyes clench shut. I imagine the betrayal and hurt on Jade's face if I told her that I just shared something personal to my friends just because I felt like it was okay to tell them. Wasn't I supposed to be the opposite of Beck? I trust Cat and Andre more than anything, but that doesn't mean I have any right to go on spreading stuff like that. Especially when I know how seriously Jade takes these kinds of things. "Shoot," I say again, opening my eyes and sitting up. My gaze falls on the bracelet I bought at the Human Body all those weeks ago - I haven't taken it off since I bought it. Fingering the silver, anatomically correct heart, I think about how Jade has literally given me hers and trusted me with it.

She can't know. She shouldn't know, and from here on out, I just won't share anything she tells me. As her girlfriend, that's my responsibility, despite my friendship with Cat and Andre. I made a mistake this time, but I can fix it by never doing it again, right? What she doesn't know can't hurt her.

Even thinking that makes guilt pool in my gut like lead. Sighing, I shake my head a little and spread my hands on the table. "Not a word to Jade, okay? And if I ever start babbling about her again like that, hit me with something."

"Literally?" Andre asks.

"Yes."

We sink into more casual conversation then, but my eyes keep coming back to the heart on my wrist; Jade's is precious and fragile. I can't afford to be careless. It's bad enough that her parents hate me and that I'm putting everything she's ever worked for in jeopardy. Her heart is the most special thing she has to offer and she's somehow decided that I'm worthy of holding it.

I can't risk breaking it.


	33. Chapter 33

_One month later_

**_|Jade|_ **

Bronze skin ripples through the gaps in my fingers like dark rivers. She replenishes me, quenches my cold and pale desert of a body when my mouth latches onto the freshly bitten skin of her neck. She whimpers - a soft, whispery mew that maps a galaxy of goosebumps across the flesh of my arms like the Big Bang.

Her fingers are knotting at the base of my head and we are making universes in the sheets.

I'm reminded, somehow, somewhere in the portion of my brain still rational (I tend to lose all sense of rationality whenever Tori starts taking off her clothes) of the still frequent times she refers to me as her moon, her light in the darkness, and how special I am to her. Like I am the center of her cosmos. But it's common knowledge that our world revolves around the sun, and she is mine. She's in a position predisposed by sheer luck and what some might call a miracle; she's not so far that I freeze, or so close that I burn. She's perfectly placed at the best distance and I spin around her until I'm delirious - happily so.

If I wasn't so busy drowning in the taste of Tori or completely entranced with the way the length of her body rolls up to meet mine like a curling wave beating softly against the shore, I might have chuckled at my poetic, sappy, and downright disgusting inner monologue. Somewhere along the line, Tori made me into some kind of poet. She thinks it's hilarious when I say something particularly lovey-dovey and refuses to allow me to forget about it.

I pretend I hate it, and she pretends to act like I hate it. I do have a reputation, you know.

But right now, there is no pretending. There's no reason to. Tori is shivering with delight beneath me, one of my knees pressed between her legs while the other props me up on the outside of her left thigh and I'm kissing the dip where her collarbones meet and she's already moaning and I haven't even gotten her pants off yet and it's just awesome. I'm Jade here and she's Tori and there's no one to witness this but her silent, purple bedroom walls (and maybe Trina, if she so happens to walk by, which, honestly, I'd probably only feel even more awesome if she did).

I told Tori after breakfast this morning that I owed her for buying me a ridiculously expensive Christmas present - the entire DVD set of the Twilight Zone and a giant pair of shears that are hanging on my wall that glow in the dark - and, to celebrate our two months together, she paid my fare into the Human Body because there was a new exhibit on the digestive system. I mean, I got her some decent stuff too - tickets to a concert last week for some girly musician I had never heard of but Tori likes and a software for her computer so she can make and edit her own songs. I didn't think they were that great, but she cried on both occasions, so I must be doing something right.

There's a third gift, one she doesn't know about, one she won't know about until the talent show. Which makes it pretty obvious, but, hey, she isn't aware of that yet.

My heart burns - comfortably, mind you - at the idea, pulling away from Tori long enough to meet her eyes, the simmering brown irises heavily lidded. She's breathless, topless, hands falling limply to the mattress on either side of her head. Her pink bra is patterned with black flowers and I trace one with my finger while the other hand curls wispy tangles of dark hair behind my ear. I study her glowing face with a great smirk.

"You going to make it, Vega?" I tease, biting my tongue when she gives a soft laugh beneath me. "I mean, I know I'm good, but if you passed out on me, I think your dad would be a little bit upset."

"Nonsense," she says, shifting to her elbows. Our noses are nearly touching and this close, I can see every individual hair that makes up her slender eyebrows. I find human beings particularly fascinating, but Tori especially. "Dad likes you a lot," she continues. "Much more than he ever liked my boyfriends."

I snort. "I don't blame him. You have terrible taste in men."

Tori mocks offense before digging her fingers beneath my ribs - which, unfortunately, she has figured out to be one of my more ticklish spots. I erupt with giggles and fall to her side, squealing at her to stop before I manage to lock my fingers around her wrists. Captured, I pin her arms together and press them to my chest, raising my eyebrows pointedly at her.

"Speaking of men," Tori chirps, only for her expression to darken. "Wait. I don't want to ruin the mood."

"You severely underestimate my hormones. Try me."

She purses her lips before releasing a defeated sigh. "I guess I was just wondering how you and Beck are. You don't talk about him much anymore."

I blink in surprise. Mostly because she's right; I don't talk about Beck much anymore. I haven't talked to him a lot in the past month. And, for the first time, at least consciously, I'm not too terribly bothered. After our brief confrontation in front of my house the day before Tori came over for dinner (which I never told her about, deciding that I didn't want Tori to envision how desperate and broken Beck was at the time), we've only spoken sparingly. A few hello's and how are you's, but nothing extensive. I know he's taken a few girls on dates though and I actually feel happy for him. I never wanted anything bad to happen to Beck. I sincerely want him to be happy.

Shrugging, I return my focus on the present. "Not much to tell. He's doing his own thing. I mean, if you're asking if it still hurts anymore ..." I drift, looking down at Tori's purple comforter. I pinch the fabric between my nails and shrug again. "It doesn't. Not really." I flick my eyes up at her. "Why? Are you worried?"

"Of course not," she says. Her eyes are concerned, though. "I just really wanted you two to be friends."

Another shrug rolls my shoulders. "Yeah, well." If there's anything I wish was the way it was before Beck and I broke up, it was the ability to hang out with Cat and Andre and even Robbie without feeling like there was a giant elephant in the room. We've attempted a few more times hanging out at the Karaoke Dokie, but there's an obvious wall between Tori and I and the rest of them. We still manage to have fun, but it's clearly not like it used to be.

It sucks, but there's nothing to be done about it. Besides, we're all going to graduate in May anyway and we'll all take off in different directions. Our lives will change again. We'll meet new people. And by we I mean they, because I have no plans on leaving Tori any time soon.

We haven't talked much about what we're going to do post-graduation. We've silently agreed to take everything a day at a time. I don't worry about my career. She doesn't worry about hers. She's too amazing for me to pass up and I'm not going to live the rest of my life knowing I didn't appreciate every minute with her, whether or not it's for forever, whether or not I'm famous.

"What about your mom?" Tori prompts. I don't understand how she can go from a hundred miles an hour to a full halt in all of five seconds. I'm still hot and bothered and I hope she notices the way I squirm with impatience.

"Fine, I guess." I rest my palm on the curve of her hip. "We still don't hang out and paint our toenails and talk about our feelings, if that's what you're wondering."

Tori quirks a sad smile - because that's exactly the kind of stuff she does with her mom. "But no more threats or angry shouting?"

"Nope." Mom had said she was sorry for being a bitch to me and has, at least in the span of the last month, not done anything that would constitute as being a bitch. She even told me to have a nice day the other morning, which really shouldn't be a big deal, but the fact that she even remembers I live with her is huge in my opinion. She still doesn't call me by my name and we don't have dinner together or anything, but I like it better this way. Being civil is all I really wanted from her. "She keeps to herself, I keep to myself. We're happier that way."

"Are you sure?"

I smile at her. "Of course. It leaves me more time for you. Now," I scoot closer, running my hand along the dip of her side. Her bare skin is unbelievably hot under my touch. All I can think of is sun, sun, sun. "If you're finished with boring conversation ..."

Tori's ribs hitch beneath my hand with a trembling inhale. Our eyes meet and she's grinning, and it's her turn to lock my wrists with her fingers and throw them over my head, using the momentum to swing her leg over my middle and settle on top of my hips.

"Why is it I'm the one who loses all of her clothes first?" Tori perks a brow at me, her fingers abandoning my wrist with a silent order to remain where they are and instead beginning to climb under the hem of my tanktop.

"Maybe because you're like a cat in heat," I shoot back, laughing when her face registers shock.

"That's disgusting," she says, but she doesn't look disgusted at all. Dipping down, she brings her mouth to mine, brown hair spilling to create walls around our faces.

When we separate, I'm tearing off my shirt and tossing it to the floor. Tori is quick to unhook my bra and that, too, joins the growing heap beside her bed. She immediately bends down to take a nipple between her lips and I let out a wanton moan before I can even think to stop it. Pulling back, she moves her damp lips to my ear and whispers, "Trina's home. You have to be quiet."

"What are you going to do?" I whisper back, my arms moving along the bed until my hands can find her hips. "Gag me? That's pretty kinky for you, Vega."

I sense rather than see the boiling blush on her cheeks. Giggling, she pulls away again to focus on my breasts. The two of us have made great (and delicious) progress in our physical relationship; there is no more fumbling or nerves. I'm still learning new things about her - it seems like I can't go a day without doing so - but I know enough to play her just right, like a finely tuned instrument. I know which strings make a certain kind of music come out of her and, to me, she's the best kind of symphony.

Tori leaves open mouthed kisses on my shivering stomach before she bites the clasp of my jeans.

"Ah," I breathe, her hands joining her mouth in order to undo the zipper. She leans back far enough to slide my jeans along my legs, tossing them behind her. "In a rush?" I tease, earning a sly grin in response.

Tori is notorious for bringing me right to the edge only to pull back again, leaving me as little more than a limp sack of flesh and bone. After she does away with my panties, she does a great deal of circling my clit without actually touching it, causing me to release a string of very embarrassing noises. Tori, who apparently is no longer concerned with the amount of noise we're making, looks smug and accomplished, watching me squirm and buck beneath her teasing fingers.

"Fuck, Tori." I ball my hands in her bedspread and try to angle my hips, hot tendrils of pleasure snaking between my thighs. "Just do it, Christ -"

She finally gives in. One hand slides two fingers inside of me and curls, the other giving much needed attention to my clit. I come hard, biting my lower lip in a vague attempt to muffle the sound. Confetti sprinkles across my vision as I come down, but before I can even speak, Tori is pressing her face at my center and licking and sucking me into another orgasm. Being so close to the first, it's more intense than you can imagine, and I'm left shaking and barely catching my breath.

"My God," I manage when Tori rolls next to me, licking her lips (sweet Jesus almighty) and grinning at me. "If your sister didn't know already, she certainly does now."

There's that gorgeous blush again. She tries to shrug it off. "Oh well," she purrs, rolling forward to kiss my shoulder.

"Now can you take the rest of your clothes off?"

"Gladly."

I have her naked in a matter of seconds. I've learned that I can nearly make her come just by solely teasing her nipples, so I do just that, bringing her to the edge and back again by the sweeping of my wet tongue. She's also a scratcher, which I wouldn't have labeled her as one before all of this, not that I'm complaining. The way her nails drag across my back is a great way to blur the line between pleasure and pain, and I find myself getting hot all over again. As a way of payback, I don't let her come right away, either, pulling back several times to bite at the inside of her thigh. I wait until she's a complete mess before I finally take her clit between my lips and suck. Tori almost screams, her hips crashing violently against the bed, and I don't stop until I feel the last echoing quakes of her orgasm fading away. Wiping my lips on the back of my hand, I fall beside her, one arm wrapping loosely around her waist.

We sit in silence for a time, listening to our breathing. Like I always feel when I'm with her, it's like nothing exists beyond this bedroom. It's something I never felt with Beck. I'm not afraid to say that, either - I loved him, yes, but no two loves are exactly the same. Tori is wonderfully different in comparison and I really wouldn't change a thing about it.

She starts talking, then - about something Trina did yesterday, and then something she saw at school, what her and Cat did the last time they hung out - and the way she flows so easily from treating me like a lover to the way she does her best friend fascinates me. I'm not just a girl she has sex with; I'm also a girl she trusts and cares about and wants to keep close to.

I'm not just a body. I'm a soul, too.

About a half hour later, she drifts off, her lips parted and her body curled toward me for warmth. I wiggle the comforter out from under us and throw it over her, always keeping one arm around her body and - I think this with a mental eye-roll because I was not a poet before Tori - her soul as well.


	34. Chapter 34

**_|Tori|_ **

Unlike Trina, I didn't always dream of living my life on the stage. In fact, before I got accepted to Hollywood Arts, my biggest dreams included owning a pet hedgehog and maybe being a fitness instructor. Before the day I substituted for Trina during the performance that changed my life, I had never been in front of a crowd. I didn't know the golden stream of adrenaline in my veins, the way it burned so deliciously through my limbs and my throat and pumped music from somewhere inside of me that couldn't be seen on an x-ray. I didn't know the thunder of a roaring crowd or the crackle of applause. I didn't know my home was up there.

In these moments just before I'm about to go on stage, putting all of myself out there for the world to see and judge, I feel more alive than I've ever been. I'm acutely aware of the way my lungs feel expanding and deflating in my chest and the steady drumbeat of my excited pulse throbbing in my neck and the distinct tingling in the tips of my fingers and toes. Even though the back of the stage is shrouded in shadows, my eyes feel like they're burning and everything seems louder than it really it is. Cat's warm-ups are blaring in my ears to the point of it being painful, but I don't step away or tell her to stop. It's a good, anticipatory kind of pain.

Through a thin sliver between the curtains, I can see the stage. It's empty and waiting and washed in white light. Beyond that is the auditorium, already almost full to bursting with Hollywood Arts students and staff and proud parents with their cameras on and ready for the performance. I find my own parents pretty easily - my mom is standing in the aisle, scanning the vacant seats and judging where the best angle to record me is located. My dad, bless him, is trying his best to appear interested, but when my mother turns his back, he checks his phone, probably hoping for a bank robbery to attend to. He obviously supports me, but my dad is more of a I-like-to-shoot-things kind of person and finds watching a bunch of kids sing and dance kind of boring.

There are even some people who don't really have a connection to Hollywood Arts out there - they just come for the entertainment because, let's be honest here; there is no such thing as mediocre at an art school talent show.

"Where's Jade?"

I turn at the question. Cat has paused in her scales to blink at me. "I dunno," I reply, stepping around Cat to look back and forth across the backstage for any sign of her. There's a lot of kids back here, giggling and sweating and shaking the nerves out of their hands and feet, but I don't see Jade yet. She performs after me but should be here by now. Chewing my lip, I slip back to the crack in the curtains, waiting to find a shock of black hair mingled with stripes of green to bob among the crowd. After a few moments of scanning, I think I've found her. I'm about to announce her arrival to Cat when the woman I thought was Jade turns, profile angled toward the stage, and I quietly gasp.

"I'm just as shocked as you are."

With the sentence comes a pair of arms around my waist. Without turning to look, I melt into Jade's chest. Her lips are by my ear. "Wow," I say, thoroughly impressed. Jade's mom was certainly the last person I ever expected to show up. "Isn't that something?"

"It gets better."

I cock my head just far enough so she can see my perked eyebrow. Her arm raises and I follow the straight line it creates out toward the crowd. To the left of Jade's mother and a little farther up is a tall man with dark cropped hair. I recognize him immediately from the one time we met as Jade's father, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his suit jacket. "Wow," I repeat. Frowning, I finally twist in Jade's arms to find her eyes. "How do you -"

My words come to a halt with my jaw swinging open because, man, Jade looks amazing. A shimmery ebony top hugs Jade's chest and in the dim backstage lights, I can make out a dark bolt of blue zig-zagging across the shirt like lightning. Tight black jeans are held in place by a belt so heavily studded it must be lethal, I'm sure, and great, intimidating black boots make Jade taller than usual. Eventually, my wandering eyes make it back to Jade's face - a cobalt shade lines her eyelids, her dusky emerald eyes crinkled by a lopsided smile currently taking residence on her face.

"Like what you see, Vega?" Her smirk broadens.

"Blue," I reply, reaching up to pinch her newly dyed streaks of hair between my fingers. "Very nice."

"Thanks." Her eyes scan over me with obvious approval. "You don't look half bad, yourself."

My boring lavender dress seems to pale compared to her stunning outfit, but I take the compliment for what it is. Grinning, I take her hips and, having to arch up to my toes to do so, kiss her full on the mouth. "As I was saying," I start, pulling back and trying to ignore the open-mouthed staring coming from Sinjin beyond Jade's shoulder. "How do you feel about them being here?" I nod toward the curtains.

A loud sigh rustles from Jade's lungs as she shakes her head, eyes leaving mine to focus on the glimpse of the audience through the curtains. "I don't know," she says, one brow flickering downward in concern. "I mean, it's weird. And I'm not sure they'll approve of my song choice."

"Swear words?"

She laughs. "Not quite."

"Okay, everyone! Places!"

With the announcement, Jade and I are separated to take our places in line. I'm in the first quarter of performers so I'm ushered to the make-up room, behind the stage and beside the bathrooms, where students specializing in stage care do the finishing touches on faces and hair. The talent show is announced in the auditorium, the great boom of cheers and applause clearly audible even from way back here. I smile in anticipation, my knees bouncing together not with nerves, but excitement.

Once the team is finished with me, I make my way toward the left side of the stage, where the first group of performers are awaiting their turn. Peeking out, I see a group of freshmen performing a dance routine as the opening number. I can see Jade's parents from here - they're separated by a few rows and while both look uncomfortable, they're at least paying attention. By no means am I convinced that either of them have done a one-eighty and turned their parenting skills around - it's a little late for that, anyway - but it is nice to see some effort put in. Whether or not Jade will accept them at all is really up in the air. Knowing her, she'll hold a grudge for a while and no one can honestly blame her for it. I don't.

Beck performs an acoustic song that has every girl in the audience screaming at the top of their lungs. I clap as loud as I can for him, vowing to have a conversation with him as soon as possible. I miss him.

Four more performances, including Andre, pass before it's my turn and by then I feel like I'm about to erupt into flames from impatience. I can feel the pull of the stage and the lights and the audience and music tugging hard in my ribcage, at my leaping heart.

"Our next performance is senior Tori Vega!"

Cheers. Clapping. A shaft of bluish light bathing the stage. I take in one breath and step out. The thunder of the crowd with the lighting of the stage reminds me of a rainless storm and like nature I feel like this is all supposed to be, like I belong up here. Taking the microphone in one hand, I grin at the audience, locking eyes briefly with my parents and Trina, Andre, who has his keyboard balanced on his feet, and, for the tiniest of moments, both Jade's mother and father. They're watching me intently, like they're going to judge me forevermore based on this performance.

Well, heck, I better give it my best shot.

With a nod toward the techie crew above the crowd, my chosen song fills the speakers. Another great cheer rumbles through the auditorium.

Breathe air you're not used to  
Tread floors you don't fall through

The lyrics thrum in my chest. I'm more than Tori Vega when I sing; I'm a performer, a musician. I'm more than this song, which I really hope Jade is paying attention to; I'm a girl falling in love and trying to make sense of it with music.

We'll watch the buildings turn to dust  
A sky of diamonds just for us  
You are the risk I'll always take  
The only branch I'll never break

I squeeze my eyes shut as I sing, belting out the words with as much passion my body can muster. Jade's smirking expression envelopes my vision and I think about what her mother thinks (thought?) about us, how we were too big of a risk because of what we want to do with our lives. I'm in love with the stage and music and who I am when I'm up here, but Jade's Jade, and I'll always take that risk.

Tell me that we're still too young  
That we're still too young and I'll hold my tongue

Because while what I feel up here is incredible, it pales to what Jade makes me feel. Jade is a thousand stages, brighter than any spotlight and louder than any crowd. One smile tossed in my direction is a century's worth of applause. This great storm is nothing compared to the hurricanes she stirs in my heart.

I'm here, I'm here to take you  
I'll swim, I'll swim to save you  
No fall, I'm here to catch you  
I'll swim, I will swim to save you

Jade said I was her everything once. That should have scared me to death - and it is intimidating, of course, but it's a weight I am more than willing to carry. I want to be whatever she needs me to be. And if that means being her best friend and her lover and her girlfriend and her everything, then I'm honored to be given that privilege.

Besides, it's not like she's not everything to me, too.

The song ends. With my parents' lead, the audience comes to a stand and claps so loudly, I can feel it beating against my feet. Laughing, flushed, heart hurtling furiously against my ribcage, I wave to the crowd and take one last look in the direction of Jade's parents. To my surprise, they're both standing. Jasmine's clapping isn't quite as enthusiastic as everyone else's and the shadows from the lights mar her features too much for me to detect her expression, but she's clapping.

Dazed, I move off stage. The bright lights have stained my eyes with white spots but the temporary blindness is a small price compared to the great charge of adrenaline in my veins. Compliments are sprinkled over my ears as well as pats on my shoulders as I make my way through the throng of people just beside the stage. I find Cat first, her smile so big I fear her face might crack in half. Her arms swallow me in a fierce hug.

"That was beautiful, Tori!"

I smile and hug her back. It was for a beautiful girl, I think, but I say "Thank you," aloud.

I'm passed a water bottle on my way out front. It's sweating and moistens my hands as I slip through the side door. On stage is Robbie, without Rex, singing a comedic piece I remember him working on a few weeks prior.

"Pst, hey, muchacha."

I turn to a grinning Andre. One arm is outstretched. I fall into it and squeeze him tightly. "You were great," I whisper, the words nearly drowned out by a great boom of laughter from the crowd.

"Thanks. So were you," he says back, giving my waist another squeeze before moving his arm around my shoulders. "Jade's right after Cat."

"She's going to blow them away." My chest swells with pride. "I just know it."

Andre smirks. "You're a tad bias."

Laughing, I shrug, and we both turn to focus on the performers. After Robbie is another dance group, a rapping duo, and a spoken word poet. Finally, Cat takes the stage, singing a Whitney Houston song with such fiery passion her face is almost as red as her hair. The crowd stands for her, too, and she skips off the stage with a high-pitched giggle.

It feels like static is popping in the air when the crowd sits again. I clench my fingers around Andre's waist and raise my head to try and see Jade's parents on the other side of the auditorium. Jade's name is announced, and I watch from a distance as her father puts away his phone and Jasmine's back straightens.

Maybe, I think, when they see her perform, they'll see that dating me doesn't matter. She's such an amazing artist that no one will care.

But all of my thoughts are washed away and my attention stolen solely to the stage when I see Jade making her way to a keyboard being set up by a techie. It's propped high enough so she can sing while standing, the microphone placed right at her mouth. The techie moves off and Jade, expression tightly controlled, throws her eyes immediately in the direction of her parents. My chest tightens because even from here I can see her throat bob, but she swiftly tears her eyes away to search for someone else - me, I think, raising my arm slightly to catch her gaze. Finding me, she smiles, fingers flattening over the keys. The music begins.

Seems somebody put out the moon  
Now the road is a minefield  
I can't follow the way she moves  
I can't see past the shadows

You make the darkness disappear

"Tori, breathe," Andre's low voice fills my ear, but I can't remember how. Jade's eyes are finding mine again, fingers flooding over the keys like a dam has broken inside of her somewhere.

You are the only road I know  
You show me where to go  
Who will drive my soul?

Spots are beginning to dot my eyes and I think it might be because of the lights, but with a heavy, persistent pound of my heart, I realize I haven't taken a breath since she walked on stage. Gripping Andre, I suck in a deep breath. Beside me, a warm body rustles against my arm. I know it's Cat joining us, but I can't tear my eyes away from Jade, can't hear anything but her voice. I can't even find it in me to check on her parents because Jade is singing to me, for me, and the last thing I care about right now is how her distant, neglecting parents think about her performance.

Cat must notice my trance because she slowly takes my water bottle out of my hands. Which is a good thing, because I was probably going to drop it soon.

You make the streetlights reappear  
I feel bright when you stand near  
I know what I am when you are here  
My place becomes so clear

If Andre wasn't supporting me, I'd probably fall over. I know of only two things: Jade's voice and the fact that my eyes are stinging. If Jade wasn't up there, she'd probably make fun of me for crying.

But how can I not?

I feel like bursting when the song ends and the crowd leaps from their seats, hands clapping hard and loud over their heads. I don't join until several moments later, stunned and rooted to the spot by Jade's glittering stare from the stage, and then I'm cupping my hands over my mouth and all but screaming up at her. She glances toward her parents, raises her hand in a wave, and then catches my eyes once more as she heads off.

Somehow feeling even better than I did after my own performance, I release Andre and start toward the side doors again, making sure to give Cat her much deserved compliments before doing so. I make my way through the techies and the last group of performers until I'm at the door that connects the stage to the outside hall. I see her shimmering shirt first, boots clicking on the small set of stairs, and then her glowing face, lit eyes already trained on me.

It can only be described as jumping, the way I hurl myself into her arms and possess her lips. Someone whistles but I don't care because Jade is spinning me in a circle and kissing me back and this girl is mine. My body floods with her, harmonizing like two instruments in a melody. I kiss her again and again until we're both dizzy and laughing.

"That was - you are -" I try to think of an articulate enough word to describe it, describe her, but as far as I know, one hasn't been created yet. "Amazing," I settle with, holding her face in both hands and shaking my head with disbelief. "Amazing, Jade."

"It was for you," she says, almost sheepishly, cheeks burning beneath my palms.

"Gosh," I breathe. Our foreheads meet. She squeezes me again. "You, I, I -" I feel my throat close against the words that come to me first. Should I cross that line? Because now more than ever, I know I do.

I know I love her.

I kiss her instead because this moment was already scary enough for her and there's plenty of time for me to tell her later, after, when it's just the two of us and a crowd of people aren't watching our every move. More whistling, even a light clapping surrounds us. And maybe it's stupid or cheesy or corny to think that we were made for each other or something silly like that, that two people who seemed to be such opposites could come together like we have.

But we are the sun and the moon, right? And there are such things as eclipses.


	35. Chapter 35

**_|Jade|_ **

The high-pitched wailing of a tornado siren pierces the muddy sky. It's so sudden that my entire body gives a great jolt and in a panic I try to grope my way out of the darkness, a darkness I didn't even know I was in until now, and I'm calling out for Tori so I can get her in my basement where she'll be safe but she's not answering me and I can't see anything and I'm yelling and yelling and there's a tornado and I need her here now and -

My hand slaps against something curved. The tornado siren halts. Relief floods through me like cold water and I sink again, my earlier concerns about Tori's safety wiped away. The tornado siren stopped, so she must be safe, and I'm safe, and everything's fine, and I don't have to panic anymore.

I'm almost completely under when someone touches me. I think it's Tori. I say her name and earn a slight shake in response.

"Wake up. Hey, wake up. You're going to be late."

It isn't the words that wake me up. It's the voice. Because it's most definitely not Tori's.

I sit up so fast the room spins. Twirling across the walls is my mother's face. I blink once, hard, and she snaps back into focus. If I hadn't heard her voice just moments before, it would have taken some convincing to get me to believe that it's actually her. She has no make-up on and her hair is mussed from sleep. Glasses - since when did she start wearing glasses? - are windows to her tired eyes. She's clutching a coral colored robe around her.

"Mom?" I know how I must be looking at her - like a stranger, because this isn't the same woman I've lived with for the past seventeen years.

She offers a light smile and nods toward my bedside table. I follow her glance and see that it's quarter after seven. I slept through my alarm.

"Shit," I say, flinging back the covers. Mom steps back far enough to let me pass into the bathroom. I lock the door and wait with my ear against it until I hear her climb the stairs. Am I in the fucking twilight zone? Is this the right house? I glance around my queer sense of bathroom decoration and decide that I'm definitely in the right place. Maybe a drunken, strikingly similar woman to my mother stumbled into my house during the night?

I run through the various possibilities - I've been dropped in a different dimension, my mom accepted Jesus Christ as her savior, my whole life up until now was one very long and vivid dream - as I quickly shower. By the time I get out and pull on a pair of narrow black jeans and a top that plunges so far in the center I'm positive I'll get yelled at for it, I barely have enough time to put enough make-up on my face to make me not look like a dead dog. I hurry upstairs with my purse clanging against my leg, but before I can make it to the door I catch sight of the strange woman - my mother, I correct myself, hopelessly dropping my other theories with a frown. I stop. She's holding a steaming mug between her hands, expression carefully controlled. The robe is gone, but she's in loose-fitting pajamas, something I haven't seen her in since the tired, warm Christmas mornings of my youth that I had done my best to forget about entirely.

Swallowing, I give her a slight nod. "Uh, thanks for waking me up, I guess." I shift my purse over my shoulder, press a forced smile at her, and start walking toward the front door again.

"Jade."

The name jars something in me so suddenly and so hard that I forget how to walk. My spine stiffens, eyes on the door, the way out, but my ears are pointed backwards, on my mother, on my mother saying my name. My eyelids flicker closed. I try to remember the last time I heard it - the day Dad moved out? Before their fighting enveloped everything else?

A part of me, a part I've long buried and suffocated and forced down, the part of me that's still a little girl who wants her mommy and daddy to love each other, gives a faint cry.

I bite my lip. Turn around. She's leaning against the hallway wall, mug held just below her chin. "Yeah?" My voice trembles and I hate myself for it, that it's so obvious how much of a hold she has on me even after all this time I've spent convincing myself I don't need her. I mean, technically, I don't. But I want her. I want my mom.

"Have a good day," she says, lips quivering as they quirk upward.

It's awkward. We're both forcing ourselves to stay put. But it's something. It's a small, tiny step in the right direction.

I don't hug her. I don't even verbally reply - she earns another nod and a look that isn't completely deadly, and then I'm out the door, releasing a heavy breath through my nose. I climb into my car and drive away, slowly, because I want to get away from the moment but still make it last as long as possible. I don't know how I feel about her yet and it's hard for me to try and figure her out; a part of me (there seems to be several) is convinced she has some kind of ulterior motive, that she's doing this with an evil plan in mind. She's certainly smart enough - I have never not once doubted her intelligence and cunning - but she's been trying to prove something to me. Why else would she show up to the talent show that I didn't even tell her about, which means she had to have put in some effort of figuring out the date for herself, and why else would she bother to make sure I got up on time, say my name, wish me a good day?

My mother wasn't always like this. She was human once. She had feelings and talked and laughed and treated me like her daughter. And the past few weeks, she's been trying to do that again. It's going to take a long time because I'm not exactly a forgiving kind of person, and she's going to have to put in much more effort than wishing me a good day or showing up at one talent show. I won't be won over easily.

I frown at my windshield as I speed through an impatient yellow light. But maybe I need to try, too. It can't be all on her.

I try to shake my thoughts about my mom out of my mind as I pull into the Hollywood Arts parking lot. Searching for Tori's car provides no results - maybe she slept in, too. Checking my phone, I duck into the loud, bustling building and shoulder my way through a group of stringy freshman to get to my locker.

I'm in the midst of sending Tori a text that reads where is your butt? I miss your butt when a force greater than gravity slams me against the lockers so hard, it feels like the whole wall rattles.

"Hi, Jade!"

The bubbly redhead is clinging to me with enough pressure to squeeze my lungs out of my throat. Grunting, I wedge my elbow under her ribs to try and pry her off, but she is either really great at ignoring pain or has gotten used to me trying to wiggle free. For a girl so thin and scrawny, she's got amazing upper body strength.

Effectively pinned, I sigh. "Hello, Cat." My phone vibrates and with much twisting on my part, I manage to make out Tori's replied text:

My butt is about to get into the car. Trina would NOT get out of the shower this morning, so I'm a little late. Be there soon!

I smile, probably dreamily, even dorkily, at my phone as I return my attention to Cat. "Unless you plan to sew yourself to my body, let go of me."

Giggling, she finally detaches herself and steps back, hands curling around her backpack straps. "Wouldn't that be so much fun? To be with you all the time? We'd do everything together! We'd always have a street-crossing buddy and we'd never have to find a partner in class!"

Somehow, I manage not to roll my eyes for Cat's sake - she's sensitive enough that my words could leave physical burn marks on her if I'm not careful enough. "Well," I say, giving her a brief smile. "I'd rather be sewn to you than Robbie."

"Yay!" Cat thrusts her fist into the air above her. "We could be like sisters, Jade, we could -" Her flapping jaw suddenly stills, then clicks shut. "Nevermind!" She all but shouts, making me flinch backward.

Peculiar behavior isn't exactly unusual for Cat, but she almost looks scared. Perking an eyebrow at her, I shift through the books in my locker, searching for the right one. "You okay?"

Cat's nod is so enthusiastic I fear her neck might snap on her. "Yep! Nevermind!"

"Nevermind about what? Us being sisters?" I raise both my eyebrows now, tucking the textbook under my arm before I turn to face her fully. Her outfit, consisting of bright yellows and neon pinks, is enough to make my eyes nauseous. "You've talked about stranger things, Cat."

"Oh, I know! I just didn't want to make you feel bad." Cat's fingertips hover over her mouth.

"Feel bad?" I frown at her. "About what?"

She fidgets. Looks over her shoulder, her hands. "Because you could have had one. Or a brother. Or twins, one of each! Wouldn't that be cool, to have twin brothers or sisters? Or to have a twin? Then she could go to school for me if I didn't want to - not if it was a boy, though, but I guess I could dress him up or something -"

"Stop." I hold up a hand and narrow my eyes at her. "Where did you hear that?"

The color in Cat's face drains. "I thought Tori talked to you about it already ... she, uhm, she told me and Andre, but we're her best friends, and we're your friends, and I thought, I didn't mean -"

"What else has she told you?" My words grit their way through my clenched teeth.

Cat's saved by the bell - literally - the loud clanging makes her jump and then she's off, shouting something about seeing me later, but her words aren't registering through the heavy pounding in my ears. Screwing my lips together, I slam my locker door shut and stalk off toward Sikowitz's class. People generally get the fuck out of my way like I'm goddamn Moses, but today it's even more obvious the way they scatter to the sides of the hallway as I storm into the buzzing room. I slam down in an empty, secluded chair in the back of the room. Cat is a few rows in front of me, red head bowed over Andre's shoulder, whispering hurriedly. He looks worried.

My jaw grinds. Good.

"Hey, sorry I'm late!"

I don't look away from the front of the room. Tori drops beside me, busying herself with situating her purse and books and then her hair, not yet noticing that my face is currently made of stone. When she does turn to me, a question is on her lips, but it immediately dies. In my peripherals, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows are quivering down in concern.

"Hey." She touches my arm. "Are you okay?"

A muscle in my jaw clenches as I look to her. I'm not supposed to be mad at her. She's supposed to be perfect. She's not supposed to disappoint and hurt me like Beck did. "No."

"What happened?" She leans closer. "Did something happen with your mom?"

I shake my head shortly and tilt slightly away from her. Her hand hovers over my skin before pulling back.

"Then what is it?"

Sikowitz strides through the door behind Tori. Neither of us look at him, but I whisper "after class" in her direction and pretend to pay attention. I want the class to go on forever, even if I have to deal with Tori's worried eyes digging holes into the side of my face, because I want Cat to be wrong and I want Tori to be flawless, the way I've dreamed her up to be.

The lesson is, as usual, all over the place, with some kind of skill integrated in. Neither Tori nor I get called on to participate - Sikowitz is pretty good at reading body language and I'm sure he can tell that we're not in the best moods. More than once Cat and Andre look back at us with tense frowns. Tori remains rigid at my side, the sound of her swallowing amplified.

When class finally does end, she leaps to her feet and spins to face me, sufficiently blocking my way out. I stand more slowly, taking my time with mindlessly shifting shit around in my purse before meeting her with my eyes. She's watching Sikowitz talk to a student, gnawing on her lip with impatience and, deciding she can't wait any longer, finally throws her attention back to me. "What's going on?" Her arms cross and she steps closer, but I negate the distance forward by taking another step back. She notices - Tori's anything if not goddamn observant as hell - and frowns, arms loosening. "Jade?"

"You told them." I nod toward the hallway door. The student Sikowitz was talking too rushes past us, followed closely by the teacher himself, who gives us a suspicious eye before exiting. Now alone, I raise my voice a little higher. "You told Cat and Andre about my mom and the baby and god knows what else, you know, private stuff that I trusted you with."

Tori's face drops, much like Cat's did at my locker. I shake my head and try to move around her, a black, ugly feeling crawling its way down my throat, something I haven't felt since Beck, but Tori grabs my arm and holds me still. "Jade," she says, but my eyes are on the classroom door. "I'm sorry. It was just that one time, that one thing, and I felt so bad about it. I haven't done it since. I won't do it again -"

"It took me six months to tell Beck that my parents were divorced." I meet Tori's eyes. I watch her swallow. "Trusting people isn't my forte, Tori, and I kind of took a leap with you and then you turn around babble it to them -"

"They're my best friends!" She releases my arm. "It wasn't like I told strangers. And I just said I haven't done it since and I won't do it again and I'm sorry. What do you want me to do to make it up to you?"

I stare at her. We're fighting. We're fighting like Beck and I used to fight. No, I tell myself, it's supposed to be different with her, it's supposed to be amazing and awesome and not difficult. I want her to be perfect. All the time. Because if she's not, then how can I ever hope to spend forever with her? With anyone? I'm fucked up enough to cover everyone in this goddamn school - she can't afford to be flawed. She has to pick up the slack on my end because I can't.

"Nothing," I reply, flatly, turning away from her. "I just thought you would be better than that."

Tori is silent for a long, swollen moment. Then, "I make mistakes just like everyone else, Jade."

"You're not supposed to be like everyone else," I shoot back. The bell rings. I duck out of the room and take off, leaving her alone in Sikowitz's room.

A part of me - one of the many, many jagged pieces that makes me up - wants to turn around, go back, kiss her, forgive her, and move on, like normal couples would. But another, bigger part shouts out that I've been hurt enough. She can't hurt me, too.

I don't want her to be another Beck. I want her to be Tori, who can't do anything wrong. I want a perfect angel, not a human who has the ability to cause pain.


	36. Chapter 36

**_|Tori|_ **

As soon as the final bell rings I am all but sprinting out of the classroom. I don't even bother with manners as I shoulder my way through students and a few teachers, desperate to get to her before she takes off. I was smart to run - Jade is nearly to the doors by the time I reach her, her face cold stone. The pain is evident on her face, carved deep into the cleft between her dark brows, the stiffness to her gait. I falter just barely, something catching in my chest and tearing. I hurt her. I hurt her when I promised I wouldn't, when I was supposed to be better than the other people in her life. I'm her girlfriend. That's my job.

The guilt I feel from hurting her is partially clouded over. Am I not allowed to ever make mistakes? How can she expect me - or anyone, for that matter - to be perfect? That's not fair. It's this thought that drives my feet forward, jogging fast to catch up with Jade in the parking lot. I grab her shoulder, which she immediately twists out of, spinning on her heel to face me with one arm raised defensively. I pull back, wary that she might strike out of instinct. She registers me soon enough, though, arm swinging like deadweight to her side. The sky is clouded over, promising rain, and mixed with Jade's dark clothes and black hair, everything looks sad and washed out. And I feel responsible for it.

"Jade." I spread my hands slowly in a sign of surrender. "Please. Give me two seconds to talk to you. You've been pretending I don't exist since this morning."

"I'm mad at you," she says, her voice low and more like a growl.

Cringing, I nod slowly, lowering my hands. "I know you are. But we have - we have to talk about this. This is what being in a relationship is all about. Communication."

Jade's green eyes narrow to the thinnest of slits. "How would you know? I'm the longest relationship you've ever had. I can see why, since that communication you think is so important is supposed to be between us, not you and Cat and Andre."

That stings. I step back, studying her silently. The harshness of her words dawns on her slowly and I watch as her eyes flick down, brows coming together.

"Look." I step forward again, swallowing over the thickening lump in my throat. "I don't know what you expect me to be. If it's perfection, then you're going to be very disappointed. I'm not perfect. I make mistakes. I'm not excusing what I did. I know it was wrong. But I apologized, I asked what I could do to make it up to you, and I'm trying to fix it. You keep ignoring me, walking away, and pretty much accusing me of being awful at relationships." Jade opens her mouth but I cut her off by raising a hand, pointing a finger at her chest. "I told you once that I would fight for you. Remember? Back in detention when this all started happening? Well, here I am. Fighting. Trying to fix what I did wrong. And guess what, Jade? I'm going to make mistakes in the future. This -" I gesture between us, "- will not always be peachy. You can't expect that of me. It's not fair."

Her eyes gloss over as they flick toward the sky. She presses her lips in a firm line and takes a slow, shaky inhale. "When I tell you things, things about me and my mom and whatever else I decide to share, I'm trusting you to keep it to yourself." She finally meets my gaze. "Promise me you won't do it again."

I know how hard it is for her to ask me to do that. Promises had been given to her through every stage of her life and almost all of them had turned out to be empty and broken. She's already risked so much for me; I can't damage that trust any more.

"Only if you promise to lower your expectations a little." My words are soft, almost lost in a loud wind that causes Jade's black tendrils of hair to stripe her face. After a long, tense moment, she finally dips her head in a nod and looks away from me. The two of us stand there, unsure what to do next. It's almost awkward, and nothing between us has been awkward since we became friends all those months ago, and it feels wrong and disjointed. I step forward quickly, trying to make the feeling go away, and gently steer Jade's jaw so I can kiss her cheek. Her hand rises slowly to meet mine. Her skin is cool, her grip tight as she takes my hand from her face and lowers it. Our eyes meet. I chew my lip and watch her study me, a thousand thoughts coming to life and dying again in the pools of her emerald eyes.

Finally, she says, "I'll see you later," and turns to walk the rest of the way to her car. I frown at her back, folding my arms slowly over my chest and sighing, rubbing my chilly skin.

"Tori!"

I barely have time to turn around before Cat's body slams into me with the power of a missile. My breath wheezes out of me. "Ca -"

"I'm so sorry!" Cat's voice is so high it's almost past human hearing. I'm certain that if a dog were nearby, it'd be shrinking away. "This is all my fault and I'm so sorry!"

"Cat, will you just -"

"I totally understand if you don't want to be friends or if you want to punch me in the throat I'll totally let you do that oh my goodness Tori I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I'm so -!"

"Cat!" By some miracle, I manage to wiggle out of her grip. She looks up at me like a kicked puppy, brown eyes ballooning to cartoonish standards. "Breathe, woman, will you?" I wait for her to do so, watching her lower lip jump dramatically. "I'm not mad at you. This wasn't your fault."

"But it is! I messed up! I forgot and I thought maybe you told her and -"

"Cat." I hold up a hand, her lips zipping shut. "It's my fault. I talked behind her back and then didn't tell her about it. We just talked ... kind of," I mumble, frowning down at my shoes. "And I think we're okay. Maybe." My lips purse. "I feel like I just forced us to take a giant step back, though." I look up to first see Cat's pouting face before I shift my gaze behind her. A black-haired head bobs over her shoulder until a strongly tanned face is revealed, and before I can stop myself, I'm calling out, "Beck!"

Cat turns. Beck stops. He's in front of his car, keys dangling over his fingertips, mouth immediately fixing into a frown upon seeing me as the source of the beckoning.

I turn briefly back to Cat. "Don't beat yourself up about this, okay? I have to talk to Beck, so I'll see you later." I give her a little wave before walking briskly to where Beck is standing, his thumb hovering over the buttons on his keychain. He's eyeing his car door like it'll somehow open up and suck him into it without his control.

I know he's uncomfortable talking to me. I don't blame him, really, but I do miss him. We used to hang out and talk and even though I'm totally ecstatic to have gotten Jade through all of this, it does upset me that it was at the cost of a good friendship. And not just for me, but for Jade, too - they weren't together for almost three years for nothing. They were best friends. They made each other happy. I want them to still be that to each other. I want the dust to settle, but it seems like every time it seems like it might be, something happens to stir it up again - Jade's mom flips or Beck tells Jade that he still loves her or I betray Jade's trust - and we're all choking all over again.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Beck meets my eyes, frown deepening. I wonder how he sees me - as a traitor or competition, or if he regrets ever making friends with me in the first place. I bite my lip when he doesn't answer right away, preparing to just walk away when he finally sighs and rests his hip against the car door. "Sure," he replies, offering a weak smile as his arms cross his chest. "What's up?"

It's my turn to frown, all but nibbling the inside of my lower lip raw. "When - and this is going to sound personal and probably invasive and please, feel free to totally ignore me - but when things got ... difficult with you and Jade ..." I make some kind of vague indicating motion with my hands before they swing to my sides. "What did you do?"

When I look up at him, he's blinking at me in silence, expression blank. The pause stretches for several long moments, tense and heavy, until he finally blows a heavy sigh through his nose and adjusts against his car. "I broke up with her, ultimately. That's why we're here." He shrugs, looking at his arms.

"Why?" It comes out before I can stop it. I've already asked him this question, a long time ago, but the answer never came out. Now, he's looking at me dead in the face, jaw set tightly, eyes drawn tight.

"Because she wanted me to be perfect and I couldn't be." His chest swells and deflates again. "If I messed up even a little bit, she'd go crazy. You remember how we were when we fought. Screaming at each other. Text message arguments that would last for weeks - weeks, seriously. I mean, the other stuff played a part, too. She was the only long term girlfriend I've ever had. She pushed me away when I tried to get closer to her. We're graduating this year and I don't know what I want. But, you know. I just couldn't ..." He shifts his keys, their cheerful jingle clashing with the smell of the rain. "I just couldn't be what she wanted. I couldn't be a perfect prince for her."

I feel like sinking into the concrete of the parking lot. Looking up at the gray sky, I hold my torso and try to imagine what that kind of pressure must feel like, what Beck felt like. I didn't know it was on me until now, but already I can feel it digging into my shoulders, cramping my lungs. I meet Beck's eyes; he stares back, lips screwed tightly together.

All of this started with him. If he hadn't broken up with her, I would have never seen Jade for who she really is. I would have never listened to love songs and actually understood them, or been inside a human heart, or made love with a beautiful girl. It all comes back to his decision - or was it even a choice at that point? - to free himself from Jade's unrealistic and unfair expectations.

Jade and I are together because they're not anymore.

"But she's great. You obviously know that by now." He flinches a smile. "She's funny. She's sweet, though God forbid you say that to her face. When she does let you in, you feel so special. She's a good person once you find her."

I nod. I think of Jade hugging me in my hallway the days following her and Beck's break-up, her soft hands on my waist at The Human Body, the first time we kissed. My eyes close and I immediately see hers, brilliant green orbs soaking up my vision like overexposed lights. I hear her crying and laughing and asking me to make a promise and I feel her fingers holding me saying don't let go don't go away don't leave and, always, stay stay stay.

I see the sun and the moon breathing in the stars.

And I love her. That's not to say that Beck didn't love her too, or that he doesn't still, but he doesn't know what he wants, and he couldn't get Jade to open up like I can, and that's nothing to blame him for. Some people are meant to fall in and out of love. That doesn't negate their love at all, or make it somehow less - it just was for a time, and now it isn't. Now it's time for ours, because I've had boyfriends in the past, I know what I want, and I love her.

I can't be perfect. She can't help throwing up walls. And I love her anyway.

I don't realize I've said it aloud until Beck's stunned expression registers. I stare at him, mouth slamming shut. His throat barely manages a swallow before he looks at his arms again.

"Well." He coughs. Hits the button on his keychain, the locks on his doors jumping with a loud click. "Good. Because she deserves someone like you."

I blink in surprise. Beck is opening his door and slipping one foot into it, watching me over the edge of his door.

I smile, and he smiles back.


	37. Chapter 37

**_|Jade|_ **

The pretty girl always dies first, you know.

I grin against my handful of popcorn before unceremoniously shoving it into my mouth. A piece tumbles into my shirt and, not bothering to tear my eyes away from the TV, I dig into my bra to fish it out. The tip of my tongue sticks to its buttery side and takes it in with a sweet crunch.

The killer on screen swings a pair of scissors around her middle finger with a wicked, cracked smile across her face. The pretty girl, the first to die in The Scissoring, stares pitifully up from the floor with tears raining down her cheeks, stuttering as she begs and pleads for her life. But the killer only grins, splitting the scissors and using the pointed blades to gouge out the victim's eyes. Blood splatters and soaks the girl's shirt as intolerable screams wail through the speakers.

This is my kind of movie.

Laughing, I chew happily at my popcorn. The Scissoring has always been my favorite movie. It's gory and painfully twisted. Gorgeous, really. I've seen it a thousand times, enough that I can sit here and easily quote the lines before the characters have spoken them. I've always secretly hoped that, if and when they make a sequel, I could audition. Maybe I'd be the main character's demented sidekick, only to overpower her at the end and take over the job myself. I sigh dreamily. A girl can hope.

It's so easy to lose myself in film, in characters, in their words and actions. It's half the reason I wanted to become an actress in the first place. These people get paid to not be themselves - what better way to escape shitty reality than pretending to be a warrior or a princess or a murderer and making bank off of it?

My enthusiasm starts to die near the end of the movie, sensing the real world closing back in on me all too soon - there's a scene where you think that, as usual, the good guy is going to win, that the killer will be killed herself and the two lovebirds will run off into the sunset as heroes. But the killer prevails, slaughters both of the remaining cast members, and cackles in their blood. There is no happy ending. The credits roll.

My living room sinks back into focus. I'm no longer a part of the movie. I'm Jade again, and this is my empty house, and this is my phone with four unanswered text, and this is the girlfriend that I've been pretty much ignoring for almost two weeks now.

Frowning, I run a hand down my face and close my eyes. Thinking about it makes my head hurt and that familiar throb starts to manifest at the corner of my forehead; Tori's been trying so hard to make it up to me, to make everything better, but I'm stuck in a place I didn't even know I had created for myself. I never considered Tori could do anything wrong, that she could hurt me, because, well, she's Tori. She's not like Beck or Trina or my parents; it's not in her DNA to mess up.

At least, that's what I thought. That's what I stupidly hoped for. And I get that she's human just like everyone else, but it doesn't stop me from wishing that she was simply biologically incapable of being at fault. I felt safer when I thought she was perfect.

Wedging my thumb between my teeth, I watch the DVD menu loop over and over. It means that I'm always at risk of her hurting me. That she has a certain kind of power over me. It makes me unbearably uncomfortable and suddenly I realize why some people are single forever. Allowing someone that ability is fucking terrifying. I didn't know Beck had that hold on me until he executed it; now, I know better. I know what Tori can do if she chooses to.

It scares the shit out of me.

I can't talk about it. I can't verbalize what I mean to her because it hardly makes any sense to me. It frustrates her, I know - I can see it in her furrowed brow when I don't squeeze her hand in the hallways or I start to walk out of the building without waiting for her or don't reply to her texts or sit next to her at lunch. It hurts her. I'm hurting her. It's not about not wanting her - I want her more than anything - but at the same time it's like a part of me is anticipating the worst and trying to prepare me for it so when the inevitable comes, it won't destroy me.

It's totally backwards and completely fucked up. I'm ruining the best thing in my life and I don't know how to stop it. I don't even know how it started.

A distant mrrrr draws me out of my hands for a minute. My phone is going off. Again. It's in my purse by the door and as much as I know I should answer it - it's Tori, I know it is - I can't bring myself to get up and do it. Drawing my knees to my chest, I curl into the couch and close my eyes and relive the talent show because it was the one time in my life that I felt absolutely, completely happy. I know Tori was happy, too, and at least I managed to do that for five minutes without being a bitch.

I must doze, because when I hear front door opening and closing, I'm not alarmed enough to sit up and see who it is, despite knowing my Mom shouldn't be home until late and no one else comes here. I'm too miserable to care or to even open my eyes. Maybe it's the burglar from all those years ago, come to take his revenge on the house that got away. Let him take whatever he wants, I think bitterly, trying to lose myself in a hazy cloud of sleep. Mom probably won't even notice and none of this shit matters to me now, anyway.

I'm almost gone when the instinctual knowledge of someone standing over me jolts me awake so hard I nearly fall right off the couch. I never knew hurtling into consciousness could be painful, but I somehow manage to wince as I sit up and grab the arm of the chair, teeth bared like a wild animal up at -

A drum is being pounded mercilessly in my ears. "Tori?" I manage, somehow out of breath. "What the fuck?"

She's in a long, strict gray coat, buttoned straight to her neck. Loose curls are bunched at the back of her head by some kind of clip and her bare legs are pressed tightly together. She's not wearing shoes. Grasped in one hand is a gray tote. I'd be more interested in what's in it if Tori didn't look like she was ready to pour lava out of her mouth. She's livid - anger has bunched her brows together, pursed her lips, and made those usually doe-like eyes narrowed and sharp - more like a ferocious bear than any deer.

I never thought I'd say that I'm actually intimidated by Tori Vega, but I am right now.

"You haven't answered my texts or my calls. You ignore me at school. You don't talk to me. You look the other way every time I look at you." Her jaw clicks together.

"Tori, I -"

"No. You had plenty of opportunity to talk. It's my turn." Straightening her back, she takes a quick glance around my living room. "Is your mom out?"

"Y-"

"Ah." She holds up a hand. "Nod."

I do. I don't know why - I've never let someone tell me what to do. Not my teachers or my parents - not Beck. If it had been them, I'd have told them to fuck off in some vague direction and done the exact opposite.

But Tori's always had this pull. People don't see it much. She's so sweet all the time that no one would even consider that she's got some fight in her. And then the claws come out and it surprises the shit out of you so bad, you don't know what else to do but obey.

"Is she coming home soon?" Tori asks, a muscle flickering in her cheek.

Shaking my head, I start to shift on the couch, toward her. It's been so long since I've been near her that it's hard to resist pulling her in. I brace my feet to stand.

"Don't. You're going to sit there and listen to me whether you like it or not." Tori's hands ball on top of her hips. "I thought I'd try to show you in the best way I can how this has been for me. To feel like you're pushing me away and that I can't touch you." I open my mouth again, but she swings a finger in my face. "No talking. Not a word. That's rule number one. Rule number two is -"

She swallows. I can tell she's nervous, which I don't understand, but I'm too scared to ask. I watch as a flush crawls along her cheeks, caramel skin darkening. Reaching behind her head, she snags the clip in her hair and releases it. Chestnut curls tumble over the shoulders of her coat, fingers poised over the first button.

"No peeking," she finishes. "Close your eyes."

"Tori -"

"Jade." The sternness fizzles out, if just for a moment, like a shaken can of pop finally left to settle. "Just do it," she says, voice softer. "Please."

She's back to being a deer again. The claws are retracting. And, well, shit, even I felt a little bummed when Bambi's mom died.

I shut my mouth. I sit still. I close my eyes.

I hear the coat pool onto the floor.

"There's one more rule." A ring of heat from her fingers wraps around my wrists. She pushes them out and to the side, away from my lap. "No touching. Got it? Nod."

I start to do so, but I suck in a breath because Tori is straddling my hips. She sits on my lap, breath warm on my chin. Without warning, without any words, she takes my lips with hers and kisses me so tenderly, it's like the misty drizzle of a great storm to come. Our kisses for the past week and a half have been little more than chaste pecks - innocent, even. Tori's tried more than once to rip something more passionate out of me, but I was so disappointed - in me, not her - that I couldn't bring myself to. In the process of convincing myself that she could do better, that she deserved better, I let the fire in me die.

Tori's doing a great job of rekindling it, though.

Her tongue runs over my lower lip before delving inside. I breathe in sharply through my nose as the taste of her overwhelms me. Without even thinking about it, my hands are touching the bare, hot flesh on her back -

Bare.

My eyes snap open.

She's naked.

"Tori -"

"You broke all three rules at once," she says against my mouth. "Close your eyes."

Too shocked to argue, I close them again.

"Put your arms over your head."

Confused, I do so, and the nature of the order is made clear when Tori's fingers deftly yank my shirt over my head. Goosebumps race across my arms and chest.

"Put your hands back where they were. I mean it. No touching, no talking, no peeking."

My hands find their way back to my side. She holds them there for a moment before her mouth reunites with me - not with my lips, but my neck. Soft, damp kisses are sprinkled along one side, the barest scrape of teeth. I didn't realize what an instinct it was to touch her until she told me not to. My hands are shaking at my sides with the effort it takes to remain still.

Tori's arm wrap around my torso. With no trouble at all, my bra clasp is undone. She tugs it off with a small grunt and bends, kissing my sternum, the valley between my breasts, my nipples. I gasp, head straining against the back of the couch. I imagine what she looks like; tan flesh flexing around the taut muscles in her back, mouth open and panting, her sleek, pink tongue drawing circles on my skin. I know it doesn't compare to the real thing and all of my self restraint is focused on squeezing my eyes shut and not reaching out to tangle my fingers in the threads of her hair, or rain my fingernails down her back.

"Sucks, doesn't it?" Tori pulls back. I hear the hard in and out of her breathing. "Not being able to look, to touch?"

I nods and lick my lips. "T-"

"No." Her hand covers my mouth - gently, ever so gently. "This is what it's felt like for the past few weeks. You're right there, but I can't see you because you look away. I can't touch you because you won't go near me. I can't talk to you because you're not listening." She takes another breath in that shakes and I know without needing to see that she's beginning to cry. My hands raise again, to hold her, my head lifting from the couch. "No! No, Jade, stay put. Feel this. Feel what I've been feeling. It's really, really hard, right? To not just - explode or something? Jade ..."

She takes my face in her hands. My eyes are stinging and I'm grateful they're closed, that I can squeeze them to block the tears I know are coming. The tremor in her voice is agonizing to listen to when I know I'm the cause of it. And I can't hold her or kiss her first or tell her that I'm sorry.

My hands curl into fists when she kisses me. Over and over, harder and harder. I feel her tears on my cheeks and whimper something weak and broken. And then she's gone again, hands popping the button on my jeans. I gasp so hard it's almost a scream when her hand digs hard between my legs, pressing hard against my center. Tori's fingers rub against the fabric of my panties at an unforgiving pace.

"Fuck," I moan, heat crawling over my body in intense, persistent waves. She doesn't yell at me this time. After a minute or two of this, she yanks back. My hips squirm, lungs tired, and it's only when my hands are moving to grab her waist does she speak again.

"Open your eyes," she says. Her hands cover mine.

Slowly, my eyelids peel back. I see first the ceiling, then, slowly, shakily, I tilt my head down to look at her. She's not crying anymore, but she looks so heartbreakingly sad it ruins me. "Tori," I whisper, taking her face and bringing our foreheads together. We're so close - she's on top of me, our lips are a whisper apart, but it's not close enough. It's never close enough.

"Tell me why you won't let me fight for you," she says, leaning back far enough to meet my eyes. I blink, shake my head, try to put into words what I still can't understand.

"I don't know." Tears burn the brim of my eyes. "I don't know, Tori. I'm just scared because I'm falling and what if what happened with Beck happens again, you know? I'm mean and unfair and I got so mad at you for something so stupid and, that's, that's not okay. It's not." I run my fingers through her hair. She melts into my hands. "And, I don't know, I just got so wrapped up in thinking you can do better. You're perfect and I can't -"

"No, stop there. I'm not perfect, Jade." Her eyes are sharp, stern, a bear. "I'm not perfect. Say it."

"You're not - you're not perfect." I swallow. "You're not perfect."

"I will never be perfect."

"You will never be perfect."

"Do you get it?" She takes my wrists, my hands, and holds them in front of her naked breasts. "Could I hurt you? Yes. Just like you've been hurting me." I start to speak but she shakes her head, cutting me off. "That doesn't mean we don't try anyway. I mean, jeez, Jade, that same logic could go to anything! Why get up in the morning if you're going to go back to bed at night? Why make any friends if they might not be your friends in a couple of years? Why live and get famous if you're just going to die someday?" She kisses me again, lips hungry and rough. "Because I can make you really, really happy if you let me. So let me. Okay?"

I'm shaking. I'm almost crying. It hurts right now, but being with her hasn't most of the time - and, hopefully, it will stay that way. We can't predict what's going to happen between us, but we can aim for the stars.

Besides, there's a girl in my lap who pushed back when I pushed her, and how many of those do you find in a lifetime?

So I tell her, "Okay," and then I shed the rest of my clothes and make love to her on my living room couch until we're both shaking and panting and holding and touching and kissing and listening, listening.

I tell her I'm sorry. I tell her that if she's going to fight for me, for us, then I will, too. I have to. I want to.

Because I want her.

And when she falls asleep after we've moved to my bedroom, I tell her I love her.


	38. Chapter 38

**_|Tori|_ **

She thought I was sleeping. She thought I didn't hear her.

My heart is a swollen lump in my throat as I look at her. Sleeping, relaxed, all the usual tension that coils in her brows and her lips smoothed out by the gentle hand of sleep. Black and blue wisps of hair drape across her cheek, over her nose. Slowly, very carefully, I pinch a few of them and draw them back, behind her ear. Jade shifts, lips parting in a hum of a sigh, and then she's still again, the blankets rising and falling with her even breathing.

She told me she loved me. She whispered it into the cave of my ear before pressing her nose into my hair and sinking into dreams. Her arm was around my waist. I was trying not to cry.

She loves me. Jade West loves me.

I had considered rolling over, telling her I love her too (because I do, more than anything, I do) but I knew she had done so under the safe theory that I was asleep and couldn't hear her. She's not ready to say it to my face yet and that's okay. I'll wait. I'm more than willing to do that for her after what I put her through last night. I hate seeing her cry, making her upset, but it was necessary. I had to make her see. I had to make her understand.

My eyes close. I breathe in the smell of her, her bedroom, her blankets, and feel her swim in my bloodstream. Last night comes to me in bright flashes of color - Jade's white skin, red mouth, green eyes. A kaleidoscope explodes on my eyelids.

It was slow. It was careful. It was Jade trying to show me what she can't put in words yet.

I smile into the pillow. I definitely deciphered the message. I drift forward and press my lips to her brow, feel her sigh against me, and whisper, "I love you, too."

Pulling back the blankets, I sit up. We're both still naked - which is weird, because I don't feel naked here, or maybe naked doesn't feel the way I thought it would, all uncomfortably revealing and nerves, or maybe it's just because of the girl sleeping beside me. I lean down and dump out my tote on the floor, clothes spilling out. Driving to Jade's house without my clothes on was terrifying - I thought that if I were to ever get pulled over, it would have to be the time I drive with just a coat on - but drastic measures were necessary. I lucked out, certainly, but I happen to think that nearly every aspect of my relationship with Jade has been purely because of luck.

It's not quite yet ten in the morning. It's Sunday. I pull on a pair of jeans and a wrinkled shirt with a grungy band symbol on it and shake my fingers through my hair. Twisting to face Jade again, I think about waking her up, but the longer I stare at the peace that so rarely takes over her, I can't bring myself to. Standing, I make my way to the stairs and climb them slowly, peeking out of the basement door before stepping into the hallway. I forget how huge Jade's house is until I'm alone. The high ceilings and spacious walls makes everything feel far away, or like I'm shrinking, like Alice in the rabbit hole. The refrigerator hums distantly. A clock ticks somewhere, growing closer as I follow the dimly lit passageways to the kitchen. The floor cracks beneath my feet on my way to the cupboard. I pull a glass and fill it from the fridge's fountain, releasing a wet-lipped sigh as the cold water chases the dryness of sleep away.

There are footsteps behind me. I grin, turning around. "I was going to wake you up but -"

I nearly drop the glass.

"Oh." Jasmine touches her throat. "I thought you were Jade."

"I, uh -" I swallow and flinch a smile. "I thought you were her, too."

Something twitches across her lips. I wouldn't call it a smile, but she doesn't look like she wants to toss me out of a window like the last time we were alone in a room together. I'm still terrified of her, even though she appears considerably less strict this time around. She's in dark, skin-hugging jeans with an olive jacket. Her hands are in the pockets and with her hair pulled back the way it is, it's impossible not to see Jade in her.

"Don't worry. I promise to be civil." Jasmine walks toward me. I hold my breath as she takes a glass from the still open cupboard and fills it from the fountain. I feel wound to spring, Jade's name stuck in my throat just in case. I watch her mother carefully as she sips from her glass, examines the surface of her drink and begins to spin her wrist, watching the water funnel. "I've been meaning to apologize," she says, eyes focused on her drink. "But you haven't been around lately."

"Uhm." I hold my glass with both hands and bring it to my lips. I take a long drink as I try to think of a reply. "We had a rough patch. But we're fine now." I give a slow nod and tuck the glass under my chin.

She's silent for a time, her eyes resting heavily on me. When I don't look up, she clears her throat and shifts against the kitchen counter. "I don't suppose I helped at all."

She almost sounds ... regretful? I glance up, study the cleft between her brows and the frown hanging on the corners of her mouth. "No," I answer honestly, not flinching when she turns to meet my eyes. This is what should have happened the first time we met like this, but she scared me right into tears. I'm stronger now - after all I've done to fight for Jade, I'm not about to back down from her mother. "I mean, it was just as much my fault as it was Jade's, but, no. This situation didn't help."

"This situation?"

I look at my glass again. "You know. You, uhm, not approving of me."

"It's not you." Jasmine steps forward. I instinctively try to move back, to get away from her, but the counter is in my back and I can't move. When I look up again, she looks hurt, her frown carving deeper into her face. "You seem like a lovely girl, Tori. It's just, she's wanted this life so badly." Her hand smooths down her ponytail. "I want her to have it. I want her to be happy." She takes a deep breath and shrugs. "However." She smiles stiffly. I can tell how difficult this is for her, to admit that she was wrong, to give up her control. But she's doing it. She's finally being a mother. "I've come to understand that you also make her happy. Perhaps even happier than being famous will." She smiles at me and, for the first time, it feels real and warm, no longer that of an Ice Queen. "It won't be easy. I stand by that."

"You've made Jade strong. I'm a little stubborn myself."

"I've noticed."

She's grinning. There's so much Jade in it that I can't help but smile back at her, raising my glass in her direction. "Truce?"

Her shoulders shake with a laugh. "Truce." Her glass clinks against mine and we both take a sip. And she's right, I know she is. Things will be hard for both of us and not just in the way that Jasmine is thinking - it's bigger than the fact that we're both girls, that the world around us isn't always accepting of that, it's the fact that Jade and I are two different people and sometimes those differences clash - but don't you have to fight for the things worth having?

"Don't tell me you guys are best friends now."

Jasmine and I both turn. Jade is leaning in the doorway, arms crossed. She's fighting a smile, dark hair hopelessly meshed from sleep.

"We were just about to crack out the nail polish and talk about our feelings," I bubble, grinning back at her. "Care to join us?"

Jade snorts. "I'd rather shove pitchforks into my eyes."

"Such a darling girl," Jasmine says from the corner of her mouth. We both laugh. Jade shifts, uncomfortable in the presence of her mom, but she's trying. She's not running away or asking Jasmine to leave, and that's something. It's probably going to be even harder for them to maintain some kind of stable relationship, but at least I'm no longer another reason for a burnt bridge. Maybe I can help build one instead.

A text message jingle erupts from the pocket of Jade's pajama pants - and by jingle I mean tortured screams that she somehow managed to find on the internet as a ringtone. She pulls out her phone, green eyes flicking across the screen, and then she smiles, turning to look at me. "Beck invited us to breakfast with Cat and Robbie and Andre and some girl he's into." Her smile broadens, a kind of relief taking over her features that I've never seen when it came to Beck. "Then they're going to the beach. Wanna go?"

I feel like I'm hovering off the ground. All of us hanging out again - as friends, together.

"Jesus, Tori, if you're going to start crying -"

"Of course! Yes, I want to go! Come on, let's go get ready." I take her wrist as I move past her, jogging to the basement door and down the stairs. "I need to borrow a suit!"

"Tori, breathe for a second." Her arm wraps around my waist and we spin for a moment. I laugh against her shoulder, wrapping my arms so tightly around her I fear she might choke, but I can't contain the golden sun inside of me. It's reaching out for the moon, the whole sky. I kiss her neck, her jaw, until I finally come to stop at her mouth, one foot popping into the air behind me.

"Someone's a little happy," she mumbles against my lips, a grin pulling them apart.

"We deserve to finally have that, don't we?" I hold her face in my hands and kiss her again. She whispers 'yes' into my mouth over and over until we're both laughing and all but falling over each other in the middle of her bedroom.

We shower together. She runs soap along the length of my back and I rinse the shampoo from her hair. We take our time, blinking through the warm water, never moving too far away. She holds me up against the shower wall and kisses me dizzy. By the time we get out, the water is running cold and Beck has texted both of us three times ordering us to hurry up before it becomes lunch instead of breakfast.

With our bikinis on under our clothes, Jade and I emerge from the basement with towels and sunscreen and flip-flops. Jasmine is in the living room on the phone, flipping through a pile of papers. Jade stops, the hand tangled in mine squeezing. I watch her, waiting.

"Bye, Mom." The words are tight and not very loud, but she said them without sarcasm, without malice. Jasmine stops talking, turning to look at us over the back of the couch. Her eyes dart to our joined hands and back to our faces.

She smiles. "Bye, girls. Have fun."

Jade's chin bobs with a slow nod. I lead her out of the house, down the front porch steps, and to her car. Mine is parked alongside hers.

"I still can't believe you drove to my house naked." Jade's elbow presses into my side. "I'm a terrible influence on you, Tori."

My cheeks burn as I slide into the passenger seat, waiting to smack my fist into her shoulder as soon as she gets in.

"Hey! It was a compliment. I'm impressed."

"Just drive, you wazzbag."

Jade laughs. The car rumbles to life and we peel away from her house, driving too fast down suburban roads. I scream at her until she puts her seatbelt on, clutching the seat with both hands. We start coming into town, flying under green-lit streetlights. Jade's foot presses down on the gas pedal when the one in front of us turns yellow.

My heart crashes on cymbals in my chest. "Are we going to make it?" I half shout over the radio, the roar of the engine.

Jade looks at me. Her green eyes say go.

"I don't know," she says.

I reach across the console and steal one of her hands. She winks at me, faces the front again, and releases a scream that I can't help but join - of thrill, of joy, of I-don't-knows.

We sail through the intersection. Maybe it was stupid and dangerous and just pure luck that we didn't run through a red light or get pulled over for speeding - but that's what we are, Jade and I. The sun and the moon, the sky, made from happenstance, coincidence, and no one knows if anything will ever last. If the sun will burn out, if the moon will pull so far away we can't see it anymore. But you don't stop gazing at the stars out of fear that they won't be there someday. I'd rather appreciate them while they're here and make wishes so they last.

Jade kisses the back of my hand. I smile at her, out the window, down the road. I don't know about tomorrow, or a month from now, or a year, or even the coming stoplights. But I know I'm in love with a girl who, somehow, fell in love with me, and she's holding my hand on a Sunday morning drive.

And that's more than enough reassurance for now.

**_| The End |_ **


	39. Chapter 39

**Epilogue**

_6 years later_

_**|Tori|** _

"Where are we going?"

"Do you need to hear the definition of a surprise again?"

"Maybe."

"Siri, define surprise."

" _A noun that means: an unexpected or astonishing event, fact, or thing_."

I laugh, blindly reaching for her until her fingers slide like connecting puzzle pieces into the spaces between my own. Pulling her hand back into my lap, I follow the hills and valleys of her knuckles with habitual fondness.

"Since when is Jade West into surprises?" I ask with a cheeky grin. I don't need to see to know she's rolling her eyes at me; blindfold and all, I can perfectly picture her emerald eyes tracing a circle out the windshield.

"I mean, if you don't want the surprise I guess we can just turn around and go home -" The car begins to slow as Jade applies the break, and I think of the place we both call our home: our seaside apartment hugging the shoreline, California sunlight spilling into our room, our bed, our bodies - I think of the animal skeletons on our shelves beside our collection of playbills, a dentist's model of teeth next to a vase of flowers, these two seemingly opposing aesthetics so seamlessly woven together and so normal to me now that they are no longer Jade's things and my things occupying the same space; they are our things in our home.

It is my favorite place in the entire world, but I laugh and raise the back of her hand to my mouth, peppering it with kisses until I hear her laugh.

"No! By all means, romance me."

"Oh, I'm going to romance the shit out of you, Tori Vega."

It's my turn to laugh. She releases my hand and a moment later I find out why - the radio turns up, and when Jade's hand finds mine again she does it in song.

_With eternal love, the stars above_   
_All there is and ever was_   
_I want it all, I want it all_   
_I want it all, I want it all_

Her voice has always been the siren I can't ignore. I would follow it to the depths of the ocean. Giggling, heart pounding, I fumble to lower the window and sing loud and blind into the wind for anyone around to listen.

_A blade of grass, a grain of sand_   
_The moonlit sea, to hold your hand_   
_I want it all, I want it all_   
_I want it all, I want it all_

We serenade the street until the song ends, my cheeks sore from smiling. "Are we pleasing the crowd?"

"You don't even know if there is a crowd," Jade says, a smirk in her voice. "For all you know, these past six years have been an elaborate ruse that all leads to this: me driving you out into the desert so I can finally sacrifice you to the Dark Lord."

"Does the Dark Lord enjoy Taco Bell? Because I definitely smell a Taco Bell around here. Wait, is that the surprise? I  _love_  Taco Bell."

"My romantic surprise isn't fucking Taco Bell," she says, but she's laughing, and this my favorite of Jade's moods; playful and profane. "You're making me hungry."

"We could always get Taco Bell after the surprise, you know."

"I really am going to dump you in the desert if you don't shut up about Taco Bell."

I laugh and draw a number on the back of her hand. "Six."

"What?"

"Six years." I take a deep breath. "We've been together six years."

"You say that like you can't believe it."

"Can you?"

There are a few beats of silence; it shouldn't be possible, I know, but I can feel her eyes slip away from the road to study me, and even after all this time I still flush under her gaze. Sometimes the weight of her looking at me is enough to wake me from sleep in the gray hours just before dawn. I always try to keep up the illusion that I'm sleeping for as long as possible but I think she knows, anyway, because her hand will find my waist under the covers, following the slope of my hip until I bite my lip and my eyes flutter open. Her face is always softest then, so calm and beautiful that I can't stand it, and when she kisses me it feels like time slows down; when we make love it feels like a dream.

Six years. Simultaneously a lifetime and a blink of an eye; have we already been living together for almost three years? What was life like before her? Surely it was black and white.

Her hand briefly squeezes mine. "It went by fast," she says, but it seems like there is so much more she wants to say.

My head falls back against the seat with a laugh. "Who would have thought that the same girl who poured coffee all over my head -"

"Love at first sight, obviously."

" - would be the same girl to kiss the hell out of me in my bedroom a year later."

"In my defense, you're super hot."

"Maybe it's me putting on the elaborate ruse," I say, giggling. "I've bewitched you with my dashing good looks and now I make you do my bidding."

Jade hums in thought. "You know, it all makes sense now. My mom couldn't get me to do laundry for the life of her, but you and your bisexual black magic has me doing my laundry  _and_  yours."

"All in a day's work," I say, leaning over the console between us searching for a kiss, which she quickly obliges.

"Don't make me crash now, we're just about there."

"Can I use my bisexual black magic to make you tell me where we're going?"

"How about you guess?"

"Hmm." I tilt my head. "Jolly Days?"

"Jolly Days isn't for another three months."

"I'm so pleased you know when Jolly Days is."

"It's your fault for dragging me there the past six years."

"Because it's special! Our love was just beginning to sprout at Jolly Days. Don't act like you don't still love the hot air balloons."

"It's not Jolly Days. Try again."

My fingers drum on my lap."The Human Body?"

There's a pause. "That would've been a good idea. But no."

I think in silence. "Are you sure it's not Taco Bell?"

"Alright, time's up. We're here." The car slides sideways as Jade parks and my heart has successfully traveled all the way to my throat. Jade isn't usually this elaborate about things, not even our anniversary or my birthday, and it's neither today. I'm about to ask her for another clue when she abruptly gets out of the car and when the door shuts I'm alone in silence with just the sound of my excited breathing. When my door opens, Jade's hands take mine and slowly guide me out. Wherever we are is relatively quiet; there's light traffic, distant voices, definitely a street of some kind, winding down businesses in the dusk.

"Okay, come around here - there's the curb, step up - okay. Stand right there." I hear her take a breath - is she shaking? "There's a couple rules I need you to follow."

"O _kay_ ," I say warily. "Like?"

"No talking. Not a word. That's rule number one."

My eyebrow jumps. "Why - ?"

"Ah, nope. You have to not talk the whole time, okay? You just have to listen. Rule number two, you can't move. There's one more rule."

This is beginning to sound familiar. On the screens of my eyelids I see me, six years younger, straddling Jade's hips on her couch, ordering her to not say a word, to not move, and -

"No touching." She releases one of my hands so she can hold my left in both of hers. "Okay? Nod."

I do so, swallowing hard.

"Okay."

Jade takes another deep, shaky breath. The window blows and tosses my hair. I ache to see her in the setting sun as night begins to crawl over the sky with the moon hanging above her; I want to reach out and take her face in my hands so I can see what she's so nervous about and kiss it away.

I guess I didn't give her credit when I put her through this all those years ago; this is hard. But at least - wait.

"Wait, Jade, are you naked right now?"

"No! We're outside!"

"Well I just wanted to make sure! I understand the reference, okay, and I wanted to make sure that you know I'm, like, not really down with exhibitionism -"

"You are breaking all the rules, shush," she says, laughing, the nerves in her voice now gone. "Just listen. I have to ... I have things I want you to hear."

I nod firmly, mouth pressed shut.

"Tori, I ..." Her thumb moves over my hand. I can feel her watching it. "I love you."

I think of the first time she said that to me; she thought I was still asleep, whispering it into my ear before she slipped into a dream. We tell people that I was the one who said it first because I never told her I was awake. I plan on telling her, someday; I've always imagined I'll tell her when -

My thoughts halt when Jade speaks again. "I've loved you for six years. The best six years of my life. And I know it hasn't always been easy to love me."

"Oh, Jade -"

"Shh," she says, a finger on my lips that traces them when I swallow the words down my throat. "I'm stubborn and easily agitated and I fight with everyone who looks at me sideways. I pushed you away so much in the beginning, I still don't know why you stayed."

 _Because you amaze me_ , I want to say.  _Because you're beautiful and kind and funny, because I found something soft and gentle beneath the scissor blades you wield, because when you kiss me I feel more alive than I've ever been, because I can't imagine being without you._

"When I was lost and heartbroken you took me in, even though I had done nothing to deserve your kindness. You didn't give up on me when I got scared and you stood your ground against my mom when I could barely look her in the eye. Every time I wanted to give up, you were there to catch me, and I ... I couldn't have made it through everything without you. All of the things I hated about you when we first met - your optimism, your tenderness, your ability to see the best in everything - are all things I can't imagine living without now. You are the most incredible person I've ever met and I'm just ... so in love with you."

Tears escape the blindfold. Jade's hands are at my cheeks, brushing them away, and then she's kissing me. Rules forgotten, I wind my arms around her waist and kiss her back like it's the one thing I was born to do.

Her fingers slip behind my head. The bandanna is untied and dropped, forgotten. But I don't see Jade standing in front of me; instead I see a street I've never been to before, stretching out before me and winding away down the slope of a hill. There is a shop beside us whose swirling script in the window I'm too bewildered to read. The sun has nearly set in the west, igniting the sky pink and orange, and I watch as the streetlights lining the sidewalk on either side turn on all at once, illuminating us in a white halo.

I look down. Jade is on one knee at my feet, looking up at me like I alone raise and lower the sun. There isn't an ounce of uncertainty in her eyes; in fact, I've never seen her more sure, more beautiful, ever in my life.

I can't breathe.

"Tori Vega," she says, her voice strong and firm. I don't even register that she's holding my left hand until she squeezes it. "You're the sun to my moon and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." She smiles, and I've never wanted to kiss her as badly as I do right now. "Will you marry me?"

" _Yes_!" There is nothing else but her growing smile, her standing up to envelope me in her arms, lifting my feet from the sidewalk and spinning me like we're the very center of the universe. "Yes! Yes!"

And just like that, my future isn't my future if Jade is not my wife, if I am not hers.

She laughs, I laugh, and when my feet are on the solid Earth again I kiss her and kiss her like I'll die if I don't.

"I have one more surprise for you," she says, smoothing my hair behind my ears before turning me around to face the shop window I couldn't focus on before. "Rings aren't really my style, so I thought instead, maybe ..."

"Yes." I spin around to face her again, throwing my arms around her neck. " _Hell_  yes."

She grins. "You sure?"

"I've never been more sure in my life. And I know exactly what I'm going to get." I kiss her again to capture the smile on her mouth, branding it into my memory.

Together we walk into the tattoo parlor and at the counter Jade wraps her arm around my waist.

"My fiancee and I have an appointment," she says, and my heart soars.

* * *

 

_**|Jade|** _

On the way home, Tori leans her head on my shoulder with her eyes closed as the radio plays a soft song I don't know. Our hands are clasped in my lap. I am acutely aware of my pulse in my wrist, a drum beat.

"What do you think sounds better: West-Vega, or Vega-West?" I ask her, glancing down to catch the smile on her face before her dark eyes open to look up at me.

"Mrs. Vega-West has a nice ring to it," she says. She sits up and turns her hand over so our wrists are side by side. Wrapped under a layer of plastic is the simple, elegant outline of a sun and moon brought together as one on each of our wrists. "Jade's wife sounds even better."

My wife. Tori is going to be my wife.

I don't know that I necessarily believe in fate but I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel like destiny. I watch the road but I'm somewhere else; six years back to the night Beck dropped me off at my house after breaking my heart in a Starbucks parking lot. I see him drive away again. I see myself weighing all of my options, not particularly fond of any of them, and then taking the first step that would put all of this in motion. I see myself drive to Tori's house.

I try to recall the exact moment I knew I was going to marry her, but there are so many; I think of her standing in the heart of The Human Body beside me, or when I flew up her stairs to kiss her desperately in her bedroom - I think of her letting me touch her body for the first time, the look on her face when I asked her to move in with me - but really, if I had to pick the very first time I knew for certain I couldn't forge a future without her in it, it was the night she pinned me to the couch and ordered me to stay quiet and not move and not touch her while she kissed me and begged me to not abandon her, when she pretended to be asleep after we exhausted ourselves between my sheets ... I told her I loved her before I could even think to stay silent. It was as automatic as breathing. I couldn't have stopped myself if I tried. She kept her eyes closed, she feigned a dream, but I could see her breath catch in her chest, watched the corner of her mouth move, and I knew then that she loved me, too.

In the present, I pull up to a red light and stop. Tori leans over and kisses my cheek. "I love you," she says, like she's answering me in the past, six long years ago.

"I love you, too," I say to her now and all of the years after.

If you'd told me six years ago that I'd turn into such a sap, I would've made you swallow razor blades soaked in acid.

We follow the streetlights home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Shade" by Metric is the song used in the beginning.


End file.
